Ill Met By Starlight
by Hirayama
Summary: fic created by Susan Doenime and Mike W. Loader since 1998. Genma Saotome arrives at the Tendo home one day, bringing his son. Despite his curse, and the misgivings of her sister, Akane takes a liking to him. And the parade of enemies from Ranma's past begins... Content Disclaimer - this work is dark in tone, and contains scenes of violence. Reader discretion is advised.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi**¡

This fic is not mine; I found it on a site and am written since 1998. Before it disappears I want to share. I have tried to contact the authors, but it seems to swallow the earth.

Enjoy reading...

**notes the real authors:**

"The gods have two jars,

From one they take good, the other evil, and so make men

Some have more of one than of the other

Of such are humankind."

- Theses

"Can a great waterway be turned from it's course, or indeed

blocked, by a single pebble? Only if it's a Goddamned river.

But, call it God, Fate, random chance, or what you will; it

displays a wonderful and horrifying talent for moving worlds

with a grain of sand."

- John Wells

"Zwei Seelen wohnen ach! in meiner Brust..."

- Goethe

There are, as has been repeatedly and rather monotonously

stated, many universes.

This is, on the whole, a good thing for authors. When the

ideas are coming short, they can whip out the old parallel

universe/alternate history chestnut. They even get to give

wise and mystical-sounding introductions, which are fun to

write and go over real well with audiences.

It is, however, not such a good thing for the story's

characters. This is because it's boring to write about a

alternate universe where everything is actually _better_ than

the "Normal" one.

Ask any of these characters their favorite line from

Shakespeare, and they will invariably return the grim old

couplet from Lear:

"Like flies to wanton boys are we to the gods;

They kill us for their sport."

Thankfully, most of them are blissfully unaware of being

fictional, as are you.

In many universes, there exists a individual known as

Saotome Ranma.

This is the tale of one of them.

Tendo Soun was a happy man.

A short while ago, he had received a postcard from his old

friend, Saotome Genma. It was short, concise, and very much to

the point.

"Bringing Ranma from China."

Soun had long hoped that his family and that of his oldest

friend would blend. Now, it seemed, his dream was to come

true. The only problem, as he saw it, was surviving his

daughters' reactions.

Kasumi, bless her, would accept it dutifully.

Nabiki would find a way to make money off it.

Akane would hit something repeatedly, probably him.

Luckily, Anything-Goes taught a simple, addictive way of

defending oneself from trouble. "If no-one knows, everyone is

happy. When knowing is necessary, strike swiftly."

He would wait until the last moment to tell his daughters.

Preferably until he was not the only moving target in the room.

They arrived a few hours later.

Soun recognized his old friend immediately. True, he was

somewhat stouter...and balder...but Genma was still Genma.

The person accompanying him had to be Ranma. Strange...

neither Genma nor Nodoka had red hair. And the facial

features...

The facial features...

"This is Ranma?" asked an incredulous Nabiki.

Soun's mind realized that something was wrong, but was

having trouble figuring out what.

Nabiki poked Ranma in the chest.

Ranma looked at Nabiki.

Nabiki gazed back, and slowly stepped away.

The chest...

It occurred to Soun that Ranma was a girl.

Soun did the intelligent thing and fainted.

Kasumi smiled sweetly. "You must be Mister Saotome. Did

you have a nice trip?"

Genma, taken aback, nodded. "We had a calm sea, thank you."

He bent down to lift his old friend to his feet. "Should I take

your father up to his room?"

"Oh, would you?" Kasumi burbled. "Daddy gets overwrought

at times..."

Nabiki was still staring at Ranma like a bird at a snake. The

redhead stared back, her expression unreadable.

Akane felt a wave of relief wash over her. Obviously, no-one

was going to be marrying anyone anytime soon. Apparantly she

wouldn't have to kill her father after all. And this new girl

might be fun...

She cleared her throat. "Hi. I'm Tendo Akane."

The girl turned her gaze from Nabiki. "Saotome Ranma."

"Would you like to join me in the dojo?"

Ranma glanced at her father, who was slinging Soun over his

shoulders to carry upstairs. "Sure."

Akane leading, the two walked off.

"What a nice girl," Kasumi commented.

Nabiki stared at her older sister. "Right," she muttered.

The dojo was a simple but serene building, combining beauty

and function. At the moment it was empty, save for the two

girls and a recently demolished stack of cinder blocks. Ranma

was eyeing the latter with some interest.

"So, do you do Kempo?" Akane asked brightly. Probably not,

she thought privately. That would be to much to hope for.

To her surprise, Ranma gave a short nod.

"Would you like to have a match?"

Something moved in Ranma's eyes. "I'd like that."

Akane smiled happily. Finally, someone who shared her

interests! And living in the same house! She dropped into a

fighting stance, expecting the other girl to do the same.

Ranma just stood there, though, an odd little smile playing

across her face.

Better go easy, Akane thought. At least until she had a better

idea of Ranma's ability.

Shouting a loud kiai, Akane lunged forward, aiming an easily-

read punch at Ranma's midsection...

A flicker in the eyes...

The kick took Akane in the stomach, throwing her back a few

feet.

Wincing, Akane regained her feet. Ranma stood where she had

been, slight smile still in place. Akane narrowed her eyes.

Ranma was good, it seemed, and didn't liked being patronized.

She could understand that; she hated it when males tried to

"go easy" on her because of her sex. Well, no more holding

back.

Moving into a graceful stance reminiscent of Taido, she

slowly advanced, moving in a complicated rhythm designed to

confuse the opponent. A few more steps, and...

Ranma went from stationary to blur in a heartbeat,

soundlessly springing for her like a jaguar from a branch. She

barely had time to move into a defensive kata before the other

girl crashed into her with terrifying force.

The kata was one of her best; a series of blinding sweeps and

thrusts calculated to fend off multiple attackers. It seemed as

much use against Ranma as a sand castle was against the

ocean. A punch smashed into her midsection, then a foot took

her in the shoulder, a block turned into a strike...

And then suddenly she was flying, the floor moving towards

her like a freight train.

Dimly, she stumbled to her feet, shaking her head to clear it.

Ranma wasn't just good, she was easily one of the best

martial artists Akane had ever seen. But she recognized the

form; Ranma used Anything-Goes, just like her. And Anything-

Goes, like all styles, had weaknesses.

She purposely stumbled, still trying to appear dazed. It was

clear that she'd only get one shot at this...

Akane went from staggering to charging in the blink of an

eye, running forward in a series of straight, powerful thrusts

she had developed to counter her father's techniques.

Anything-Goes taught cunning countermoves and attacks,

turning the elaborate katas and maneuvers of the opponent into

a trap. But it simply couldn't deal, at times, with a basic but

random pattern of applied force. And if there was anything

Akane was good at, it was applying force.

Ranma stood her ground, but for the first time seemed alert.

Akane pressed forward, and Ranma sprang...

...up and over the wall of Akane's fists...

...and then Akane felt hands along her throat, as Ranma

vaulted by overhead...

...and realized that if Ranma bore down, or twisted those

hands like so, her neck would snap...

...and she felt the tell-tale increase in pressure, the almost

inpercievable flexing of the wrists, and numbly realized that

that was exactly what Ranma was going to do...

...and then Ranma landed, and the hands slipped away. Akane

quickly turned, feeling rather foolish for thinking that he...

Their eyes met.

Ranma's held amusement on the surface, but under that was

something else, something less controlled. I could have, the

stare said. I could have, and I might have, and I didn't.

Akane kept herself perfectly composed. But there was fear in

her eyes, and the other girl knew it.

"Good match," Ranma said. Her smile was warm and friendly.

"You're really good," Akane managed to say. "Did you learn

that in China?

"Yeah. I learned a lot of stuff in China." There was a hint of

bitterness there.

"What was it like?"

Ranma actually looked... uncomfortable? "We traveled a lot.

The old man kept us moving. Never stayed in one place. Never

settled down." The uncomfortable tone was moving towards

anger. Akane moved back unconsciously.

And then the anger was gone, replaced by the friendly smile

that almost touched the eyes. Almost.

"It'll be nice to live here for a while. Put down roots. Build

something. A home."

Akane's heart went out to her, the recent feelings of fear

dissolving. Life on the road couldn't have been easy. The poor

girl probably just needed a home, and a family. The Tendos, she

resolved firmly, would give that to her. "Come on. I'll show you

the rest of the house."

She strode out. Ranma hesitated and then followed, the half-

smile playing once again across her features.

After the brief tour, Ranma excused herself, saying that she

needed to bathe. Akane showed her the changing room, and

made her way to the front of the house. She'd have to show

Ranma around school as well... help her make new friends. She

would give Ranma a home, and a real life...

"Akane. Can I talk to you for a second?"

Akane looked up, startled out of her reverie. Nabiki was

standing in front of the living room door, an unusually sober

expression on her normally irreverent face. "Sure, Oneechan.

What's up?"

Nabiki leaned forward. "Be very careful with Ranma, ne?

She's dangerous."

Akane stared at her sister. "What do you mean?"

Nabiki twisted uncomfortably. "Look, sis, I'm good at reading

people. You know that." Akane nodded; that was certainly true.

"And everything about her is... well... wrong, that's the only

way I can put it. Her eyes. There's something dead or broken in

there, and it scares the hell out of me."

"She's had a hard life, Nabiki. All those years on the road..."

"No," Nabiki snapped. "It's more than that. Look, Akane..."

Akane felt her temper rise. "She's never had a family, Nabiki.

Or a home. Or a friend, I think. That's enough to make anyone a

little reserved."

"No, Akane, restaurant tables are reserved. Ranma is a way

different case. The sooner she's gone, the better I'll feel."

That was the last straw. "Nabiki, you can be a real bitch at

times, you know? Just throw her back into the street, is that

it? I'm going to make her at home here, and you'd better do

your share. If I catch you bullying her..."

Nabiki gave a hollow laugh. "Yeah, well, I'd just as soon bully

a viper. Fine, be _nice_ to her. Just... be careful as well,

okay?"

Akane smiled. "I will. Don't worry, I won't let the deadly 16-

year-old girl sneak up on me and rip my throat out." A rivulet

of sweat ran down into her eyes, and she absently wiped it

away. "And now, I think I'd better wash up. I'm filthy."

"You do that."

Briskly, Akane turned around and walked off to the bathroom.

Her sister watched her go, worry written across her normally

roguish face.

Akane was still fuming as she entered the changing room.

Nabiki was probably coming up with a way to take Ranma for

everything she was worth, and wanted Akane to stand aside.

Sometimes her sister almost sickened her.

As she removed her yellow practice gi, she noticed Ranma's

clothing folded neatly over a chair. Hopefully she hadn't used

all the hot water; at the moment Akane wanted nothing more

than a nice, hot, relaxing bath. Amazing how just a little warm

water could get rid of tension, stress, anger...

Opening the screen, she stepped into the bathroom. And froze.

A strange boy stood inside, wearing the same thing she was.

Which was nothing.

He stared at her. She stared back, her mouth moving silently

in shock.

After what seemed an eternity, the boy's surprised look

slowly changed into a leer. He moved forward a step.

Akane screamed and ran.

Kasumi looked up from her book to see her youngest sister

race past, keening like a banshee who had just been goosed.

"Is something wrong, Akane?"

"THERE'S A HENTAI IN THE BATHROOM!" was the reply.

Kasumi frowned. Well-ordered households weren't supposed

to have sexual deviants wandering around.

Akane raced back, this time armed with a katana. "I'LL KILL

HIM! I'LL SLICE IT OFF!"

Genma descended the stairs, a incredulous-looking Soun in

tow. "Happened already, has it?" he said, sounding resigned.

"Daddy! Mr. Saotome! There's a strange man, naked, in the

bathroom!"

The strange man in question picked this moment to walk in.

He seemed to have acquired clothing, Akane noted. Ranma's

clothing.

She leveled the katana towards him. "What have you done

with Ranma?!"

The boy laughed, sounding scornful and amused at the same

time. Akane's heart sank; he had probably done something

terrible to the poor girl. Her fingers tightened around the

blade's hilt, and she prepared to swing, to draw blood if need

be.

Something crashed into her, and she realized that it was the

boy. The katana was wrenched from her hands, and she was

flung back, to land in a sprawling heap on the sofa.

Her attacker spun the katana in a swift circle, and then

drove the point deep into the floor. Surveying the stunned

room, he gave them a sardonic grin. "I'm Saotome Ranma. Sorry

about all this."

- End of Chapter 1 -


	2. Chapter 2

**THIS STORY IS NOT MINE, IT BELONGS TO Mark W. Loader and Susan Doenime**

Chapter 2 - Perchance to Dream

The silence around the dining room table was an interesting blend. There was disbelief in it, and awkwardness. Horror and shock vied with pity and sympathy. Tension made up a large part of the mix.

Then Kasumi returned with the tea, and blind optimism was added.

"Cursed?" Soun said for the tenth time.

Genma nodded. "We had gone in search of the fabled training grounds of Jusenkyou..."

Ranma looked up from his teacup. "_We_, Old Man? I recall having little to do with your decision."

Genma glared at his son. "_We_ went in search of Jusenkyou. And we found it." He sighed, and swirled his cup, watching the tea inside ripple. "We certainly found it..."

"Oh, Honorable Sirs, please be careful! Very bad to fall in pools!"

Neither Ranma nor Genma heard. The Art filled them. The world was irrelevant.

"I'll not go easy on you, boy!"

His son replied with the look of contempt Genma had come to expect, and leaped from pole to pole, searching for the right spot to attack from.

Genma felt the familiar mix of pride, sorrow, guilt, and fear settle over him. Pride, because his son was the best practitioner of the Art Genma had ever seen, a natural. Sorrow, because of the other things his son was. Guilt, because all of it was his fault, his and his alone, and not even a man as lacking in responsibility as Genma could fail to recognize this.

And fear, because there would come a day when Ranma had learned everything he could from Genma, when there would be no more techniques and forms and katas left to teach. And then...

He forced his mind back to the present, and buried his emotions under the wall of platitudes he had built. He'll get better. He loves his father. The training is all.

Ranma jumped, and Genma rose to meet him. As usual, neither managed to land a blow. The fat Chinese fellow was shouting something, but that didn't matter. Nothing outside mattered.

Again, the leap. Block. Strike. Land.

On the fifth pass, Ranma made a mistake.

He could have tried the Falling Cherry Blossom, which probably would have knocked Genma off the pole. Instead, he tried Steam Rises From The Cup, which would have broken Genma's ribs had it connected.

Genma used one of the few counters he had been keeping back just in case, and Ranma instead went flying into one of the pools, landing with a tremendous splash. That would teach the boy respect towards his elders! You had to get up pretty early in the morning to beat Saotome Genma! He grinned, thinking of the lecture he would be able to give his son on not being prepared for unexpected defenses.

The guide was clucking sadly, and shaking his head. Ranma surfaced, and...

Why was his son's hair red?

"Oh, too bad. You fall in Spring of Drowned Girl. Very tragic story..."

Ranma ripped open his shirt in horror. Genma nearly fainted, and made very, very sure his balance on the pole was secure.

His son was a daughter! The shame! How would he face Nodoka!

"...fall in spring take body of young girl!"

Ranma leaped out of the pool, a look of helpless rage in her eyes. Genma prepared to run for his life; but no, she was approaching the Guide...

The Jusenkyou Guide had a very unrewarding job. It mainly consisted of having people ignore his warnings and becoming cursed and upset; and he hadn't even been able to take that counseling course that would have allowed him to console the idiots more effectively. The pension plan was pretty miserable too. It was about to get much, much worse.

Ranma casually kicked the man's legs out from under him, breaking his left arm in three places as he fell. Then she knelt down beside him.

"How long before this wears off?"

The Guide was too busy moaning in pain to answer. Ranma bent his arm a little to get his attention, noting the sharp fragment of bone beginning to pierce the skin.

"AAUghhh...No wear off...permaAAAAAAIIIIIIIIGGHHHH!"

As the piece of bone broke through in a shower of red, Ranma smiled sweetly at him. "How do I cure it?"

"Please sir...hot water...hot water turn you male..."

She frowned, and slowly applied pressure. "You just said it didn't wear off."

"Cold...aaaah...cold water turn you...female again...please..."

"So. I change genders if I get wet. That's just wonderful."

She slowly turned to stare at Genma, who jumped off the pole to the ground. "Now son... daughter... I'm sure we can work this out..."

A deep, feral snarl bubbled up from Ranma's throat, the type of snarl that rabid timber wolves dream about making.

Genma ran.

"...so the boy here asked the guide, and found that warm water changes him back. And cold water turns him female."

Genma hung his head. "If only we had been able to understand the guidebook! If only I spoke Chinese!"

"If only you had the mental power of the average garden snail," Ranma said flatly.

Genma paused. "I'm truly sorry, Tendo-kun. I wanted to bring you a son to marry one of your daughters, but...I can't ask you to take Ranma, given his condition."

Soun leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "But he's still a man, neh? Doesn't wear dresses or date other men?"

Angrily, Ranma turned to face him. "No," he spat. "And I don't wear high heels, or fawn over fuzzy widdle animals, or giggle."

He looked tired, suddenly. "Sorry, Mr. Tendo, but this hasn't been much fun for me. I'm a man." A broken sigh. "A man."

Akane, seated at the other end of the table, was still trying to grasp the fact that her new friend was... a boy? Cursed? Had been here less than a day and seen her stark naked? She wasn't sure which upset her more.

Ranma didn't look very happy either, she noticed. In fact, he looked almost ready to burst into tears. Nothing like the arrogant young man who had burst into the living room and effortlessly disarmed her.

How, she wondered, would she have handled turning into a boy? Akane shuddered; not very well, she suspected. And if her life had been a constant struggle before being saddled with and obscene curse...

She made her decision.

"Father," she said hesitantly, "why don't we wait a while?

Ranma and Mr. Saotome can stay here, and if things..."

"Now Akane," Nabiki interjected, "you know how crowded he house can be. I'm sure Ranma would be more comfortable in a hotel. We'd pay for the room, of course..."

Akane stared in disbelief. Nabiki was offering to spend money?

Ranma cast his eyes downward. "We don't want to be in the way," he said in a small voice. "If you want us to go to a ryokan..."

Kasumi, reacting to the horrifying prospect of a guest who was being shown less that courteous behavior, put on Cheery- But-Firm-Maternal-Smile #23. "I'm sure we have plenty of room. And we'd love to have both of you. Right, Nabiki-chan?"

Nabiki tried to glare at her older sister, discovered that this was not physically possible, and instead flashed a sickly grin. "Yeah. Love guests."

Ranma turned anxious eyes to Kasumi. "Are you sure?"

Kasumi beamed. "Of course! Why, the Saotomes are practically family."

Genma started to speak, appeared to think better of it, and slumped back into his seat.

Akane watched Ranma smile happily. She felt like smiling herself; it was an infectious kind of thing. "Please, think of our home as your home," she said.

Ranma seemed to wipe something from his eye. "I...I'd like that," he managed.

Soun stood up briskly. "Well, that appears to be settled.

Tomorrow we can go about registering Ranma at the high school. Kasumi, why don't you show our guests their rooms?"

Kasumi, pleased with the rather soppy and sentimental turn of events, stood up from her chair. "Of course, daddy. Ranma, Mr. Saotome, if you'll just follow me..."

The whole room stood, save Nabiki, and began to follow Kasumi upstairs. As they filed out of the room, Ranma turned to Nabiki, the odd half-smile playing across his features, and winked. She met his gaze steadily, and eventually he turned to follow the others.

Only then did Nabiki allow her face to show fear.

Kasumi went to bed that night feeling tremendously happy.

Not only had the Saotomes recieved proper treatment, but they would be staying for quite a while. Which meant that she'd be able to feed them, and cook for them, and bring them tea, and remind them to dress warmly, oh my, more subjects!

She slowly drifted off to sleep, her mind filled with pictures of her world, where everything was proper and ordered.

Later that night she woke to the sound of screams, and considered them. It sounded like one of the Saotomes, and she had done everything that a good host was supposed to do. So they couldn't be unhappy. And people only screamed like that when they were unhappy, or, more accurately, experiencing the torments of the damned. And that couldn't be the case; she had even dusted under the bed.

Eventually she concluded that no-one was screaming at all, and went back to sleep. She hoped that her next dream would be more tidy.

Akane awoke with a start as a scream of agony rang out. Her mind groggily inquired as to the source of the scream, and her memory returned the answer a few seconds later. Ranma.

Vaulting out of bed, she grabbed her robe and rushed out into the hall. A few seconds later, Nabiki emerged from her room. She hadn't bothered with a robe, but was clutching a bokken in a steady grip. Akane wondered where she had got it; surely

Nabiki didn't keep weapons in bed with her?

They found Genma sitting in front of Ranma's bedroom door, his eyes unreadable.

"Mr. Saotome," Akane hissed, "what's going on? Is Ranma okay? He sounds like he's being murdered!"

Genma stared at her, wincing as another scream split the night. "He...my son has...dreams."

Akane stared at him. "That's from a dream? God, why hasn't anyone woken him up?!"

She put her hand on the doorknob, but was stopped by Genma's hand on her shoulder. Angrily, she spun around, "He's in...". She trailed off as she saw the fear and pain written across his broad face.

"It would not be a good idea to wake him." Genma's voice seemed strangely distant. "That would be dangerous."

Akane was puzzled. "I've heard that you aren't supposed to wake a sleepwalker, but surely this isn't the same?"

Genma shook his head. "I didn't mean dangerous to him."

"NNNOOOOOOOOOOOplease...getoff...no...daddyhelp... please... I'llbegoodpleasegetthemawayhelpnononoNONOAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" The scream slowly faded away in a series of gurgling sobs. Akane stared at the door, horrified.

"What...why?" she finally asked.

Genma sighed. "It's a long story, and one I'm not going to tell tonight. Maybe... maybe after a while."

Nabiki, who had remained silent, now stared at Genma. "Can we expect this every night?"

Genma shook his head. "He has these...dreams...after a move to a new place, or after a...change." His gaze turned pleading.

"He doesn't know about them, you know. He won't remember any of this come morning, and I ask you not to mention it to him."

"NO please...Ryou...don'twantpleasenobackdon'tmakeme...mother... NO… " The words turned into incoherent shrieks, building, rising...

Akane looked away. "I won't tell him. Neither will Nabiki, right?"

Nabiki nodded quickly.

Genma managed a forced smile. "Thank you. Now...go back to sleep."

On her way back to her room, Akane wondered what form of hell could do that to someone as confident and self-possessed as Ranma.

After her mother had died, she had sometimes awoke in the black part of the morning, crying for someone who wasn't going to come. She knew Nabiki had done the same, although the middle Tendo sister would never admit it. Kasumi hadn't, but then Kasumi had been the one who came to comfort them and tuck them back into bed. And maybe there hadn't been much difference between the one being comforted and the one doing the comforting.

When pain invades your waking hours, it passes over into your sleep. And losing your mother is pain indeed.

Whatever it was that was eating away at Ranma, it was obviously much, much worse. Akane had trouble even imagining such a thing.

Nabiki was closing her door, going back to sleep. Akane heard the sharp click of the lock being turned, and frowned.

Akane knew her sister better than anyone, and would have expected one of two reactions to being woken in the middle of the night by a screaming houseguest. The first was the almost comical grumpy, crotchety air she adopted when faced by something that was wasting her time. The second was the predatory gleam that appeared in her eyes when she saw a chance to make money, which was most of the time.

Nabiki had looked...thoughtful. As if she were trying to fit a piece into a particularly hard jigsaw puzzle.

Akane pulled the covers over her with a sigh. Now she had two people to worry about; Ranma and her sister.

Day came, as it often does.

Kasumi was the first up, as usual She was in a good mood, which was also usual. After doing her usual morning stuff (contrary to widespread belief, Kasumi had morning breath like everyone else), she began to fix a abnormally large breakfast.

Growing boys needed food to start the day, and Mr. Saotome was fat, which implied that he enjoyed a good meal.

Kasumi enjoyed watching people eat. It had, in fact, taken several months of chiding to break her of the habit of staring in fascination at the other diners' mouths. She was looking forward to watching the Saotomes.

Soun was the next one up, refreshed by a good night's sleep. He had slept through the entire night's unpleasantness, but this was normal enough. Soun could have slept soundly on the stage of a heavy metal concert.

Nabiki, Akane, Ranma, and Genma came downstairs within seconds of each other. None of them had slept very well, and looked it.

Kasumi informed them that it was a good morning, sat them down, and pushed food at them.

She was in for a pleasant surprise. Both of them didn't so much eat as inhale. The beginnings of affection sprouted in Kasumi. After breakfast they showered her with complements, which was fertilizer for the sprouts.

As the plates were cleared, Soun addressed the table.

"Ranma has been enrolled in Furinkan High, in Akane's class, I believe. She can show him the way there, and lead him around the school. Is this satisfactory?"

Ranma gave Soun a grateful look. "Oh yes, Mr. Tendo. That would be more than satisfactory."

Soun beamed. "Good. You'd better go, wouldn't want to be late for your first day!"

Nabiki muttered an affirmative, and sped out the door.

As the dust from her sister's departure settled, Akane sighed. She wasn't sure what Ranma's reaction to the mob of idiots that tried to pummel her on a daily basis would be. It was...embarrassing, and she realized that she didn't want to be embarrassed in front of Ranma.

She pictured Ranma fighting off the crazed horde for her.

That was a pleasant image, and she replayed it a few times.

And then, after the hentais had been disbursed...

"Shouldn't we be going?"

Akane jerked out of her reverie, startled. Ranma was staring at her, a hint of impatience showing.

"Yes, of course. C'mon, the school's this way." With that, she ran out the door, stopping only to grab her schoolbag.

Ranma, it seemed, found fences preferable to sidewalks.

Balance was a essential part of martial arts, and Akane could use a balance beam or a wire with the best. She could walk along a fence rail, if she ever wanted to. But to _run_ along a fence, without paying attention, as if it were the most natural thing in the world...

"So what's this place like?" he asked.

She decided to get it over quickly. "Oh, a bunch of students will try to beat me up as soon as I walk in the gate."

Akane was treated to a very rare sight; that of Ranma looking dumbfounded. "They what?"

"Try to beat me up. The school president declared that only one who defeats me in combat will date me." A look of pure disgust crossed her face. "Boys."

Ranma smirked. "Gee, does this mean I have to date you?"

Akane glared at him. He held up his hands in mock defense. "Just a question. Besides...the way you fight, I'm the only person you'll ever get a chance with under that stupid law."

The glare melted, and a warm feeling rose up in Akane. She didn't get much recognition for her skills, and coming from someone as good as Ranma..."Yeah, well, the guy who declared it's pretty good. A kendoist."

He made a rude noise. "Huh, Kendo. Some good stuff, but too limiting. And they make way too big a deal over honor." The last word came out as if it tasted bad.

"Honor has a place, but..." Akane began. Ranma laughed, and made a dismissing gesture.

"Honor is dumb," he said. "It's a bunch of inconvenient rules clung to by scared old men and stupid little boys." He stared at her, and Akane was briefly startled at the intensity she saw there. "All it does is hurt you. I look out for myself. Oh, and those I care for," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Akane felt slightly embarrassed, as if she was hearing an elderly, respected relative being mocked. "But honor is one of the keystones of the martial arts!"

Ranma gave a sharp chuckle. "Oh? What's the most effective martial art in existence?"

"Anything-Goes," Akane answered automatically.

"Exactly. Just look at the name. Anything is allowed, as long as you win."

"But the Tendo-Ryuu teaches honor towards..."

"Feh. Who won our fight? Who defeated who?" Akane was silent, and Ranma pressed on. "Honor is a stone around the neck, and when people aren't careful it drags them. Down. All its fault." He was silent for a few moments.

Then they arrived at the school gates, and all hell broke loose.

It was a mob, dressed in hockey pads, football helmets, sumo gear...a normal sight, really.

Akane spat her favorite epititet ("Boys!") and proceeded to hit people. Ranma sat down by the gate and watched with interest.

She really was in fine form today, people thought as they were knocked senseless.

It probably would have flattered Akane to have known this, but she was busy turning down requests to date via her knuckles. She tried to think of it as a form of morning workout, but it didn't change the fact that a horde of drooling, hormone-ridden perverts were trying to assault her.

Ranma, she noted sourly, was failing to live up to her daydream. The least he could do was watch her back, or maybe help her clear a path. Her irritation level went up a few notches, and so did the severity of the injuries.

Eventually, she ran out of targets. Akane stopped to rest, panting a bit. Ranma stood and applauded, earning a dirty look.

"You could have helped."

He shot her the half-smile. "You didn't look like you needed it. I didn't want to spoil your fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah."

A figure picked this moment to dramatically step into view. Akane gave a little sigh of resignation, knowing who it must be. Ranma just narrowed his eyes.

"Whither goest the lovely Tendo Akane on this beauteous morn?" inquired the figure. "For lo, your true love has come to pay you homage in the martial way you adore."

"Go away, Kuno," spoketh Tendo Akane.

Ranma stared at the newcomer with interest. "Who are you?"

The figure struck a Heroic Pose (TM). "I, churl, am the foremost of men. I am the leader of the band of samurai who dwell here, the rising star of the Kendo world (junior division), the "Blue Thunder" of his peers. Kuno Takewaki, age

17."

Ranma chuckled. "How nice. Do you do birthday parties?"

Kuno turned a interesting shade of purple.

Ranma held up a hand. "No, no, don't bother demanding my name. Saotome Ranma."

Kuno opened his mouth, struggling for words.

Ranma yawned. "A duel of honor? Sure. But I'm late for class.

Mind if we wait until...hmm. Hold on, let me check my appointment calender."

Kuno charged, bokken slicing the air.

Akane tried to decide whether or not to get involved. It was pretty obvious that Ranma could take care of himself. On the other hand, he was unarmed, and she had never seen Kuno this angry.

The bokken rose and fell, moving almost too quickly for the eye to follow. While not allowing any blows to land, Ranma wasn't attacking. He just dodged and wove, an almost critical look on his face. Occasionally he would sidestep something nonexistent, as if he fought an invisible foe. If anything, this just seemed to enrage Kuno more.

They were near the school now, and a few chunks of concrete flew from the wall. Akane blinked as she realized that the air pressure caused by the bokken was doing the damage. All at once, she saw purpose behind Ranma's seemingly meaningless dodges.

Kuno was better that she had thought. He had been pulling his punches while fighting her, the bastard...

With no warning, Ranma went from defensive retreat to aggressive fury. Kuno staggered backwards as blows ripped through his defenses, forcing him back...

There was a sudden, painful, sickening crack.

Kuno looked surprised, then examined his leg, fascinated at the unusual angle it was at. He fell over as he was doing this, but didn't seem to notice. Smiling, Ranma leaned over and pulled the bokken out of the fallen kendoist's hands. He turned it over and over, examining Kuno with a speculative gaze, as if trying to decide...

A sudden queasy feeling came over Akane.

She cleared her throat. "Ranma," she said, softly, "he's down. And hurt."

He turned to her, a frightening glint in his eyes. "Yes. I know."

With casual grace, he swung the bokken in a circle, turned to Kuno, raised the bokken high above his head, brought it down...

...into his belt to sheath it.

His gaze returned to Akane. "Is something wrong?"

"I..I thought...," Akane stammered. Ranma gave her a mildly inquisitive glance. "Nothing," finished lamely.

Ranma smiled at her. "Our classmate Kuno-sempai," he gave a mock bow to the half-conscious boy, "has managed to injure himself. It is our duty as good schoolmates to take him to the infirmary."

She slowly nodded. He made a beckoning motion. "Could you take his other arm?"

Akane sat in class, pretending to listen to Sensei's lecture on Bolivian tin. Her thoughts were fixed on Ranma, who sat next to her, apparently drinking in every word the teacher spoke.

He had enjoyed breaking Kuno's leg.

It made her shudder. She enjoyed a good fight, the sensation of pitting your will against your opponent's, the challenge. But she got the impression that Ranma hadn't enjoyed the fight as much as he had enjoyed snapping the bone, causing pain and injury. And then, later on...

She had been sure he was going to kill Kuno.

But he hadn't.

He hadn't killed her yesterday, either, when she had been sure he would. And he had been very careful bringing Kuno to the infirmary, making sure that the injured leg wasn't bumped or jostled. He had been more careful than she had been, in fact.

Could it be that she was reading him incorrectly? Looking back on what she expected him to do and what he actually did, it seemed likely.

She shot a glance at him. He had a deep soul, she felt. Deep, with black chasms and sunless depths. And it was very hard to tell what might lie beneath the surface.

There were certain things you couldn't mistake, though. Like the screams in the night. They had contained pity, horror, fear...

Shame...

He needed help. There was a demon trapped inside him, eating away from the inside. It was something he kept fighting, and kept losing to.

Maybe she could help him fight it. Maybe two people were enough to drive it away.

Sensei made a joke, a academic jest that only other academics would find amusing. To Akane's surprise, Ranma seemed to chuckle at it. Not the fake smile that several of the other students put up, but honest amusement.

Maybe...

Like a wraith, the figure emerged from the wastes. He had reached the ocean.

"Thalassa," whispered the figure, and chuckled.

He was robed against the heat and biting sand of the desert; but the desert was behind him. The robe was flung into the sea as he bent to study the beach.

Footprints. Two sets of them. A large man and a teenager, both disappearing into the surf.

Across that ocean lay Japan. His quarry was leaving China at last, going home.

Going home to die.

One hand caressed the handle of a worn umbrella, felt the texture of the wood as he had so many times before.

"Saotome."

It was curse and prayer, promise and threat. It was religion and purpose. It was blood feud, fire, vendetta. And above all, it was hate strong enough to storm the gates of hell if that was what it took.

The figure waded into the sea. Above him, an albatross shrieked twice, and then sped on the tide of the wind for Japan.

- End of Chapter 2 -


	3. Chapter 3

**THIS STORY IS NOT MINE, IT BELONGS TO Mark W. Loader and Susan Doenime**

Chapter 3 - Brothers in Arms

One man, one goal

One mission

One heart, one soul

Just one sore loser...

- Queen

Kuno awoke, and immediately wished he hadn't. Damn, that hurt...

He quickly took stock of his situation. The air smelled of disinfectant, and the walls were covered with anti-drug and AIDS posters...yes, he was in the infirmary. And he seemed to be lying down. This was probably a good thing, because his leg felt like it had been run over by a herd of elephants. Big elephants. Damn those huge grey animals, he would have his revenge on them! What were elephants doing in Japan anyway?

Kuno's mind wrenched itself back to what passed for reality with him. It hadn't been elephants that had done this to him, it had been that insufferable peasant! Saotome Ranga, or something like that. As soon as he recovered, he would challenge him to single combat and...

Something didn't quite fit there, and Kuno had to think hard to see what it was.

Oh yeah. He had already challenged Saotome Ramada to single combat. Which was why he was in the infirmary.

But that implied he had lost, which was ridiculous. No-one defeated the Blue Thunder in fair combat. It simply wasn't done.

Which meant it had to have been unfair combat! But how was it unfair?

Kuno dredged his rather fogged mind for ideas. He seemed to remember something about elephants. Yes, that had to be it. Saotome had used his unnatural power over elephants to win! The gall of the man!

He started to rise for his usual dramatic oratory, but his leg informed him that this would be a bad idea. Kuno acknowledged the suggestion by passing out.

When he woke up again, he noticed something leaning against his bed. It was a long, narrow package, with a card. Addressed to him! The student body, griefstricken by his injury, was sending tribute!

Kuno opened the card.

Dear Pink Lightning,

Sorry I beat the snot out of

you. Here's a little something

to help with the leg.

- Saotome Ranma

Off came the wrapping paper. It appeared to be a wooden crutch. Kuno almost appreciated the thought, and it looked like it had been made out of rather expensive wood. The same kind, in fact, as...

His bokken.

The bastard had made a crutch out of his blade. His weapon. The incarnation of his honor.

Oh, he was going to pay for this. On his word as a samurai, he would.

He'd make Saotome curse the day he ever heard of the house of Kuno.

Akane waited at the school gate for Ranma. He had said something about dropping off a package, and assured her he would only be a few minutes...

"Hi, Sis."

She spun, startled, to find Nabiki perched on the fence.

"Oneechan! Don't sneak up on people like that!"

Nabiki smirked. "So much for the highly acute senses of the trained martial artist. How was class?"

Akane rolled her eyes. "Sensei told us everything we didn't want to know about South America. Then came Trig. Ranma was about the only one in class who didn't fall asleep."

Nabiki's expression turned curious. "The jock was interested?"

She nodded. "It certainly looked that way. Detailed notes, asked questions, the whole bit."

Her older sister turned away. "I suppose you saw what happened to Kuno?"

"I was there, yes," she replied. "It was amazing, Nabiki. You wouldn't..."

"I understand he broke Kuno's leg," Nabiki interrupted. "Don't you think he went a little overboard?"

Akane stiffened. "Kuno was the one who attacked first," she replied. "And he was really mad, Oneechan. I think he would have done worse to Ranma if..."

Nabiki sighed. "Look, Akane...Ranma's an incredibly skilled martial artist, right?"

She nodded emphatically. "Oh yes. I've never seen anyone do..."

"Well, if he's so good, why'd he have to break Kuno's leg? You beat him off every day without seriously hurting him."

Akane opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

Nabiki glanced back towards the school. "I've gotta get going, sis. Just think about it, okay?" And with that, she jumped down from the fence and briskly strode off towards the center of town.

As she watched her go, Akane tried to come up with a pleasant answer to her sister's question. None came to mind.

She was able to knock Kuno senseless, but he was always back on his feet within a few hours. And if she could place blows so as not to cause serious injury, Ranma could as well.

Which meant that Ranma had decided that instead of just winning the fight, he would break Kuno's leg and win the fight.

He had decided to seriously hurt someone he had just met.

"Ready to go?"

Akane gave a little squeak and turned, to find Ranma standing a few inches behind her. He shook his head at her and clucked in a mock-serious manner. "You shouldn't let people sneak up on you like that. All kinds of weirdo wandering around these days."

She tried to glare at him. "I was thinking."

"Think the weirdo would care?"

"Nerima's a pretty safe place," Akane returned, feeling a bit annoyed. "And the average mugger doesn't move as quietly as you do. And even if he did sneak up on me..." She balled her hands into fists. "He'd regret it."

Ranma grinned. "Y'know, I bet he would."

She smiled back, but the question Nabiki had raised still bothered her.

"Kuno should be all right in a few weeks," Ranma said, his voice regretful.

"You sound disappointed," Akane said before she could stop herself.

Ranma gave her an inquiring glance. "I just sorta feel bad for hurting his leg like that. I don't understand why he didn't block it."

It felt as if sunlight shone on Akane. "Ranma," she said gently, "not all of us are as good as you. Kuno wasn't _able_ to block."

Ranma seemed abashed. "Yeah, I guess...I just get carried away sometimes."

She patted him on the arm, missing the look of disgust that flashed across his face. "Don't worry about it too much. At least now he won't be harassing me every morning."

"Yeah, just the charge of the hentai brigade," he answered.

"Though I'd think you'd find that flattering."

Akane's face wrinkled in distaste. "I find it annoying." She picked up her schoolbag from it's place on the ground. "Let's go home."

"All right."

Across the city, beepers went off.

The people who picked them up where a varied bunch. A rather cute little girl in a sailor fuku, looking more like a doll than a human. A curiously nondescript high school student, the very embodiment of the word "faceless". A clerk on the Nerima Daily Shinbun. An elderly, toothless, homeless man, skin the color of old paper.

Instead of a phone number, a short series of digits. 5235.

Emergency meeting. Drop everything, and assemble at the rendezvous point.

And they did, because Tendo Nabiki never used that code unless something very big was going down. Big, and profitable.

He ran. Sometimes it seemed like he had been running forever.

The forest grew thicker, branches whipped at his face. He ignored them. Tokyo was around here somewhere, perhaps over the next rise! And that was where they were heading. It had to be.

He would have caught up with Saotome long ago, if it hadn't been for his sense of direction.

It was the standard Hibiki genetic package, his parents had told him. You get amazing strength, superb coordination, and unsurpassed potential to generate ki. Oh, and you also get this slight problem with directions. Go to the store for milk, and you wind up in Paris or Istanbul. Look at the bright side, they said. It lets you see the world for free.

And indeed, it was fine for tourism. But when you're hunting a murdering demon in a quest for revenge and honor, it really, really got in the way.

He didn't know how long it had been since he had last seen Mariko. They had met by a happy accident in Amsterdam a few years back, on his birthday, and had gone to a small cafe by the flower market. She had ordered coffee, he had ordered tea, and they sat and talked and talked and talked, telling each other about where they had been, and the wonders they had seen, and the leads they had picked up on Saotome's whereabouts. For three days they sat together, sometimes talking, sometimes just enjoying the other's presence.

He could have sat there for three more days, or three more weeks, or three more years. But you couldn't put a blood feud off so you could drink coffee and enjoy yourself. So they had at last parted ways, again, and he had cried himself to sleep for a week.

On days when the world seemed against him, when he was huddling in the mouth of some nameless cave in some foreign land with the rain pouring down outside, he would take out the memory of Amsterdam. He would remember Mariko telling him about how funny the opera house in Sydney looked, and how there was this odd little street in Belgrade, and Mardi Gras in New Orleans. And he would cry himself to sleep again, but somehow the world didn't seem quite so bleak as it had.

Aside from the reason for his hunt, which was reason enough to cast Saotome into the lowest pit of hell for eternity, he would make the bastard pay for keeping him and his sister apart for so long.

The forest parted, revealing a town below. Not very big. Tiny, in fact. Almost certainly not Tokyo.

But it was always best to be sure.

A few minutes of walking found him in what appeared to be the main street. Strangely enough, all the people seemed to be busy cowering in fear. Maybe this _was_ Tokyo, and Saotome was terrorizing the populace!

He grabbed the nearest man he could find, a portly gentleman in farming clothes. "Is this Tokyo?"

The man was momentarily snapped out of his terror by the sheer stupidity of the question. While he normally would have answered with a sarcastic remark ("Why yes, and this is the Ginza, and I'm the Emperor."), fear has a way of decreasing human wit. So the best he was able to manage was "No, it isn Oh Shit..."

Boy and man turned to see a pig. Or, to be more precise, a boar. You generally call them Wild Boars, but this one had passed that stage, and now qualified as an Out-Of-It's-Tiny-Little-Mind Boar.

It charged, because that's what boars do to pass the time.

And ten seconds later it got it's tiny little mind smeared all over the street by a incredibly heavy red umbrella, because that's what Hibikis do to pass the time.

After that, it was easy to get directions to Tokyo.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is Saotome Ranma."

The assembled group stared curiously at the photo Nabiki held up, commiting every detail to memory. No questions were asked; the meeting had not yet entered that phase.

"He's been trained in the Anything-Goes school of martial arts. And he's good. Very good. Top twenty in the world today good."

They sat silently, faces set in masks of impassive alertness.

"Unfortunately, he's also a complete psycho. Mentally unbalanced. Even more unfortunately, he's been engaged to my sister and is living in _my house_." The last two words came out in a hiss of anger.

"Ranma is going to kill someone, eventually. I'd prefer it not be me or one of my family. You are to find out everything you can about him. I want him watched every hour of the day. If he has weaknesses, hates, fondnesses, habits...I need to know about them.

"I have a list of assignments for each of you. Under no circumstances are any of you to approach him. If Ranma thinks you're a threat, or a spy...at best, you'll wind up in the hospital."

A high school student raised his hand. "Excuse me, Tendo Nabiki-san."

"Yes, Hikaru?"

"Your pardon, Tendo Nabiki-san. What profit will this undertaking secure for us?"

Nabiki smiled like a shark. "For one thing, it keeps me alive, which should be of interest to all of you. Second, I think Saotome will give us ample opportunity to make a bit of money. Lastly, should we not net anything from this, I'll personally pay all of you out of my own operations."

Hikaru nodded, as did the rest of them. The leader had been probed, and no weakness found. Yet. Her orders would be followed. For now.

Sometimes Nabiki felt like the head wolf in a pack. They followed her becuse she was the best hunter. Listening to her and obeying her meant that money filled their pockets. But if that ever changed...

Every wolf wants to be pack leader, and is just waiting for his chance.

She was walking a thin line. In order to keep them on Ranma's trail, she had to come up with another source of income. And in the meantime she had to strike as many blows as possible against him. But they couldn't be obvious ones, or he'd kill her. It would probably look like an accident, and Akane would be griefstricken, and he'd be there to "comfort" her...

It scared her to death, but it was also great motivation.

"Suki, you'll watch the Tendo house..."

Life settled into what appeared to be a routine.

Ranma and Akane would get up, go to school, come back, do their homework, and eat. Soun and Genma played shogi. Nabiki schemed and fumed and sniped. Kasumi cooked and cleaned and breathed; all three being, to her, vital functions required supporting life.

And during this time, Nabiki and Ranma had talks.

"Good afternoon, Nabiki-san. Has the day gone well for you?"

(Found any dirt on me, bitch?)

"Oh, fairly well, Ranma-kun. And how was school?"

(I might have. And I saw you made no progress with Akane today.)

"Fine, though I'm having trouble with Trig. Akane's going to help me study."

(Alone in her room. I'm looking forward to it. Gonna try to get in the way?)

"I'm sure she'll be able to help you. Akane's very good at working things out."

(You're a sicko, Ranma. And you won't be able to fool Akane much longer.)

"I'm glad you have such faith in your sister's ability."

(We'll see. She's _mine_, and she knows it. It's just a matter of time.)

"Yes. Of course, I'm the mathematician in the family."

(I'll see you in hell first. Stay away from her, little boy.)

Everyone else marveled at how friendly the two were towards each other.

"So...where in China did you go?"

Ranma looked down at her from the fence. "All over. Like I said, we moved around a lot. Village after village of men in fatigues, rice paddies, temples of monks...most of it was dull. Nerima is much more exciting."

Akane stared at him incredulously. "Nerima? Exciting? Compared to China?"

He shrugged. "Well, yeah. It's very...relaxing. And school is a real challenge, and you...well...I never had a real friend before..."

Her head swam. Ranma felt that she was more...exciting...than China? She was that important to him?

Without warning, Ranma leaped off the fence to land beside her. "I really do appreciate how far you've gone to make me feel welcome. You've been very kind to me."

"It was nothing, really...well, I mean it wasn't nothing..I enjoyed it...I mean..." She was babbling. Why? Ranma pulled a bit closer, and she felt a funny, almost nauseous sensation rise through her. "I'd like to thank you, somehow," he said, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes, burning with something, seemed to be locked with hers...why was she moving forward?

What was she _doing_? Was she about to kiss him? It looked like it...

And then his face went wide with shock, and he stared at something behind her. She jerked back, the spell broken.

Akane had never seen an expression like the one crawling across his face. Hate, disbelief, fear...what on earth could make Ranma afraid? And hope...just enough of a desperate hope to show up on the fringes of what was otherwise a very ugly display of emotions.

"Ranma? What's wrong?"

He didn't reply, and she turned to see for herself.

A boy, about their age, stared back at them from across the street. A mop of black hair was held in place by a yellow and black bandanna, and a large backpack rested atop his shoulders. Secured to it was a old-fashioned red umbrella.

While Ranma's gaze was complex, this boy's wasn't. It held triumph and hate, both in terrible quantities.

"It can't be...," she heard Ranma whisper. "There's no way he can be..."

The boy turned, and dashed off into the crowd.

Ranma continued to stare for a second, and then ran after him, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Ryouga! Wait! Come back! RYOUGA!"

Akane followed as he raced through the streets, frantically peering down alleyways, a mad, hunted look in his eyes. Finally, realizing that his quarry had been swallowed up by the city, he pulled to a stop. His hands slowly began to curl into fists.

"Ranma? Who...who was that..."

He turned, and her heart caught in her throat at the sight of him. Kill, his eyes were saying; he was shaking with a barely controlled rage. "Shut up," he spat, the words laced with venom, "don't talk to me, you..."

She shrank back, preparing to leap into a defensive form, knowing that it would be useless.

And then his expression was sheepish and apologetic, his stance relaxed and unthreatening. "..oh hell, I'm sorry, Akane. It was just...a bit of a shock, there. He was someone I hadn't expected to see again."

She slowly relaxed a little, still frightened. "A-are you...feeling all right, Ranma?"

He nodded, looking embarrassed. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that, honest. I just...saw someone I didn't...didn't expect to see. I'm not angry at you, and I shouldn't have said what I said."

Something, obviously, had upset him. No, upset was far too weak a word. Enraged, possessed, stunned...those all fit it far better. Maybe it was the same thing that had filled the house with his screams almost a week ago.

"Can you forgive me? I really didn't mean..."

"Of course," she said. "Don't worry about it."

FINALLY!

He had looked right into Saotome's face, and seen fear. The bastard was AFRAID of him! And then, as Ranma had called after him...

Saotome must think...oh, this was too good to be true. It was perfect. It was poetry. No, even better, it was Justice.

He had thought it would be hard to wait, that he would have to fight the urge to destroy Ranma immediately. But no, this was much better. Let the fiend sweat. Let him worry about the ghost haunting him, let his nerves fray.

He pulled out a cell phone, carefully packed in a watertight bag, and dialed the Number.

A few rings, and then...

"*yawn* Hello, moshi moshi, all that?"

He grinned, in spite of everything. "It's me, Mari-chan. I've found him. He's stopped moving."

Silence for a few moments. "Where."

"Tokyo. Nerima Ward. The Tendo Dojo."

"And we meet?"

"At the Akai no Kasa Kissaten. It's a tiny little coffee shop, corner of Fasa and Kurita streets."

There was a delighted laugh from the other end of the line. "Akai no Kasa? How fitting. I'll be there tomorrow, brother mine. And then..."

The thought hung in the air. There was no need to finish it.

"See you soon, Mariko."

"Tomorrow," her voice broke a bit, "I'll be there tomorrow."

"With your sense of direction?"

"With my sense of direction."

Hibiki Mariko hung up, exhilaration rushing through her. It would finally be over! Finally! Ryouga's honor would be restored, Saotome punished, and she could see her brother as long and as often as she wanted. They could travel together, go back home, have a conversation that _didn't_ involve hunting Saotome to the ends of the earth...

It was about bloody time, was all she had to say about it.

Looking around, Mariko spotted a likely-looking person. He had a map, a coat, and was fumbling with a set of car keys. Perfect.

She pulled her tan umbrella out from under her trenchcoat, and, grasping it by the middle, pulled down. There was a *slideTHUNK* noise, and she walked over to the likely looking man.

"Excuse me, sir, could you take me to the airport?"

He barely gave her a glance. "Get lost, kid."

She pointed the umbrella towards the ceiling, and pressed a stud on the handle.

As the deafening report faded, the man gaped at the new six-foot hole in the roof. Mariko calmly pumped the umbrella again, and stuck the now-smoking tip in the base of his stomach.

"Excuse me, sir, could you take me to the airport?"

The vagrant watched Ranma and Akane leave. Taking another swig from a bottle of cheap rice wine, he stood, the motion surprisingly swift for a elderly man at the mercy of the elements. Retreating into a dark, secluded alleyway, he pulled a cell phone from his clothes and, like Hibiki, dialed a number.

"Tendo here."

"It's Geki. The subject just chased after a young man, about his age. He seemed...agitated."

"The subject, or this other?"

"Both. They don't appear to like each other. In fact, I would go so far as to say hate."

"Interesting...can you describe this young man, Geki-san?"

"Certainly. He was powerfully built, black hair, carried a large, red umbrella of a baroque style..."

Akane sat in her room, staring at the walls.

They weren't particularly interesting walls, but that didn't matter.

She was worried. About Ranma, and about herself.

Boys. She hated them. So why had she come _this_ close to kissing Ranma today?

What would he have thought of her? He was her...well...friend, certainly nothing more. He'd never shown the slightest bit of interest in her romantically...

She probably would have embarrassed him, made him feel uncomfortable. He needed her as a friend; a friend she would be.

But who was this boy?

Ranma had called him Ryouga, and had obviously not expected to see him. Just as obviously, there was no love lost between the two.

Ryouga...why did that name sound familiar? Had Ranma mentioned him before?

She would ask Ranma, in a day or two. After he had recovered completely from the shock. After...

After she could be sure he wouldn't reenter that barely controlled rage at the mention of this other boy. He wouldn't hurt her, of course...but it probably wasn't good for him.

Damn whoever this Ryouga is, she thought fiercely. The last thing Ranma needs is to have old wounds reopened. He needed a normal life, with a normal family, and she was going to make sure nothing prevented that.

Idly, she picked up a arm weight, hefting it. Her room was a mess; workout equipment and practice gear scattered across the floor. She had snuck a look at Ranma's room once, while he was out...it had been almost supernaturally clean. And, well, barren. A photo of an older woman, who Akane assumed was his mother, and a vase of cherry twigs - that was everything.

It reminded her, oddly, of Kasumi's room. The same sterile sense, the feel that you had made the room a mess just by entering.

Akane giggled. Of course, Ranma didn't have frilly sheets on his bed, or a teddy bear named Mr. Buttons perched on a cupboard, the way Kasumi did.

She hefted the weight, her spirits better. She'd have Kasumi make an extra helping for the Saotomes tonight.

At about 6:00 AM, the Akai no Kasa Kissaten opened. Five seconds later, a young man walked in, his hair and yellow-on-black bandanna soaked despite the red umbrella he carried. He made a beeline for a two-person booth, and sat down.

The waitress knew the look on his face. She'd seen it several times before. The kid was waiting for someone, someone female, and he was desperately hoping she'd show. But knowing she probably wouldn't.

Yeah, she'd read this story before, and knew how the ending went. A pity. Stories really should have happy endings.

But, she mused, you have to follow the script they give you. And my part of the script is to walk over and ask him if he'd like to order. This will bring him pain at being reminded that no-one is with him, and if the girl shows up, it would be rude to have ordered. So he will decline, and I'll walk off, and the whole routine will have made both of us that much more older and grayer.

"Would you care to order?"

"No, thank you. I'm waiting for someone."

"All right."

It's not much of a script, she thought blackly. Philosophy students working in Kissatens think blackly quite a bit. It's an occupational hazard.

Time passed.

She said she'd be here today, damn it.

He wasn't really surprised, though. If you were a Hibiki, you were never, ever on time. It just didn't happen.

He laughed, bitterness filling him. A Hibiki had indeed been on time once. Of all the DAMN times for the curse to fail, it had to be that one. Hell, that was the way the universe worked.

Not much he could do about it, except try to clean up his little corner of it.

And the kissaten door opened.

The girl framed in it was stocky. Not in an unattractive way, not fat; just powerfully built. A tangle of black hair tumbled out from under a yellow baseball cap, spilling over onto her tan trenchcoat. She finished closing her rather bulky umbrella, and turned to him.

Her face was just as he'd remembered, save for a few years of age. Bright, twinkling eyes. A crooked, slightly teasing smile.

"Hi there, brother mine. How's it been?"

He broke out into a big, silly grin. "It's been better. I found him, Mariko. I actually saw him, and he saw me. You should have seen the look on his face!"

She slid into the seat across from him. "He knew who you were? I'm surprised he'd even remember."

"Oh, it was priceless. I ran off, and he tried to follow, yelling

"Ryouga, come back!" Amazing, ne?"

She stared at him, a small grin slowly building. "You mean..."

"Yup."

"Perfect."

"I thought so."

"When do we get to kill him?"

He smiled. "It's not that easy, Mari-chan..."

"Yes it is. I wait along his route, blow a hole in his stomach, and run. Easy."

"Also lacking in honor."

She made a face. "Feh, honor is what started this in the first place."

Her brother's face darkened. "No, it wasn't. It was Saotome's lack of honor...lack of decency...that caused it."

Mariko slowly nodded, her face somber. "I suppose. So what _is_ our plan?"

"I'm going to fight him."

"The hell you are," she flatly replied. "That's just what happened..."

"Listen. I'm going to fight him. He'll do something completely dishonorable. He can't help it; it's in his blood, in his style...he'll fight dirty. And that releases us from the laws of honorable combat."

"And then?"

"Then you blow a hole in him with that damn toy you carry around."

She giggled. "It's a useful thing."

He sighed. "It's also a crutch. A true martial artist..."

"Bah. I can take just about anyone hand to hand, and you know it, brother mine."

"Then why do you carry that thing?"

"It's for the handful I _can't_ take hand to hand. Why, it saved my life a year ago. I was in Zaire, and this rhino..."

"Why would Saotome be in Zaire?"

"I was trying for Nepal. Anyway, it charged me for no good reason at all..."

The waitress shook her head in amazement. Maybe the story had a happy ending after all.

- End of Chapter 3 -


	4. Chapter 4

**THIS STORY IS NOT MINE, IT BELONGS TO MARK W. LOADER AND SUSAN DOENIME**

Chapter 4 - ...What Are Friends For.

I stumbled out of bed

I got ready for the struggle

I smoked a cigarette, and I tightened up my gut

I said this can't be me, must be my double

And I can't forget...

- Leonard Cohen

Akane woke up feeling a lot better than she had in the past few days. Ranma's first week of school was over, and he seemed to be adapting nicely.

Kuno had ceased to bother them, for the most part. He did, after all, have a broken leg; not even Kuno was stupid enough to start a fight in that condition. He was settling for baleful glares at Ranma and mooning glances at her. And the occasional phone call.

"Moshi moshi?"

"Mine ears rejoice to hear thy golden voice, thine dulcet tones..."

*click*

Fortunately, Nabiki had agreed to screen her calls. For a small fee. Smaller than she had expected, actually. Nabiki had been very generous to her of late, going easy on her pocketbook. In fact, one day...

"Oneechan, I need someone to tape my cooking show while I'm at the store. How much?"

"How much what?"

"Don't play with me, Nabiki. How much will it cost?"

"Nothing."

"Oh. So what's the favor you want in return?"

"There isn't one."

"You're just going to do it for free?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Um. Well, thank you."

"You're welcome."

This wasn't like Nabiki. Akane knew her sister, and she knew that Nabiki never did anything for free, even if she honestly liked you. She just made it affordable.

It wasn't that she was greedy...well, she was, but that wasn't the real reason. Nabiki simply couldn't bear to pass up an opportunity to make money. She couldn't help herself.

It was frustrating, very frustrating at times to have a mercenary for a sister. Granted, Nabiki poured most of the money back into the family accounts; a lot of the money she extorted from her sister was money that had been earned for the family by Nabiki in the first place. And she gave wonderful gifts...not just expensive things, but ones that had a lot of thought put into them.

But having to pay for every little thing was irritating in a way that made Akane want to beat some common courtesy into her older sister. And while she went fairly easy on the family, she was ruthless with others. One of Akane's friends had fallen so deeply into Nabiki's debt that she had to take a job after school to pay it off. Suki had never been quite as close to Akane afterwards, and it was all Nabiki's fault.

And now Nabiki was doing things for little or no money.

Akane reached the only logical conclusion. Nabiki wanted something from her, and was trying to butter her up.

And she was willing to bet it had something to do with Ranma. Maybe Nabiki thought he had some sort of life's savings, or wanted him to play enforcer. Or felt pictures of his female form would sell well.

Akane scowled, pulling on her shirt. If Nabiki even thought about trying something like that, Akane would take her into the dojo and "spar" with her.

She smiled. Nabiki actually wasn't that bad a martial artist.

She just wasn't anywhere near Akane's level, and hadn't practiced in years. A few bruises in uncomfortable places would give her the message to back off.

ntendo furnkn7%:

pine

[Opening...3 New Messages]

ls

N 54 Mar 25 Urd (3,682) Re: Investments or Risk?

N 55 Mar 25 dedwards (8,059) Monthly Letter! :)

N 56 Mar 25 Hikaru (8,817) Saotome Report

56

Date: Thu, 25 Mar 1996 18:54:25 -0500

From: Hikaru hikarut .

To: "Nabiki Tendo" ntendo .

Subject: Saotome Report

Tendo Nabiki-san;

Saotome's not really doing anything threatening, unless you count volunteering to tutor in Phys Ed after school as threatening. He seems quite normal, although a bit...distant. He hasn't made any friends, although quite a few people feel that if he beat up Kuno he deserves respect and admiration.

I saw the "Umbrella Guy" walking with a girl as I went to school this morning. They seemed to be examining the area, as if casing it. They also seem quite fond of each other, and the girl carries an umbrella as well.

Off the subject, I collected the fee from Higako today, plus the usual interest.

- Hikaru

| "There's a sucker born every minute" - PT Barnum |

| hikarut . |

d

q

[Really Quit Pine?]

y

[Expunge deleted message from "inbox"?]

y

ntendo furnkn8%:

logou

The cat padded across the garden, its steps slow and uncertain. Food had been scarce of late, and it was taking the risky step of exploring new hunting grounds. This one looked promising...bushes ideal for nesting birds, ample places for small furry mammals to shelter, and a pool filled with tasty-looking - if uncomfortably large - fish.

There was no scent-marker, so competition from others of it's kind would not be a problem. The rank odor of dog was nowhere to be smelled. Just prey, and sunbeam-stones, and lush green grass.

And man-thing. That was the deciding factor. If the humans were of the tolerant sort, life would be good. And if they weren't...well, the clumsy things were never awake at night anyway.

A sparrow landed on the lawn nearby, oblivious to the hunter's presence. Experimentally, a paw batted out, intended to tease instead of rend. The bird was bowled over, gave an alarmed squawk, and took to the air.

Lazy. Careless. Wonderful traits to find in prey. This would be...

"Hello there."

The cat spun at the noise. Careless was good for prey, but _not_ for it. Especially when it got so lax as to allow a human to sneak up on it.

The human dropped down to his knees, his red shirt flapping in the light breeze. "Here, kitty. Nice cat. Yes, nice kitty."

The voice was friendly, comforting. Not at all like the booming roar that the more savage man-things made at it. No, this was one of the hospitable ones.

Slowly, ready to bolt, it padded over. Man-things were not very subtle, but could also be unpredictable at times.

"Nice kitty. Pretty cat."

The hand descended, slowly, and began to stroke the fur. Ahhh. Humans, despite their many faults, were good for something.

"Such a nice kitty." The gentle hand moved up along the back, rubbing the muscles in a wonderfully soothing way, evoking a low purr. "Kitty's nice. Wouldn't claw me. Wouldn't bite me."

Wonderful. Humans were simply perfect at this, and they did it for no apparant reason.

The hand moved to stroke the head, scratching under the ears. "Kitty wouldn't tear me to pieces. Wouldn't kill me. Wouldn't rip at my eyes. Wouldn't eat me. No. Good kitty."

A wince, the hand had been a bit tight there. Humans could be clumsy.

"Kitty won't do any of that."

There was a sharp, sudden snap.

The boy stood, and padded out of the garden.

ntendo furnkn8%: logou^H^H^H^H^H

pine

[Opening...2 New Messages]

c

To : dedwards .com

Cc :

Attchmnt:

Subject : Monthly Letter

- Message Text -

This may be the last letter I write you.

I saw something, just now, from my bedroom window. It frightens me, and I begin to think that I might not last the month. Or the week.

This seems cryptic and overly dramatic, I'm sure. You know me, at least as well as you can know someone a world away. I'm not a romantic.

I should leave. I could start a business somewhere, I could apprentice myself to a firm, I could do hundreds of things. I want to live. I want to grow up, and have a job and have my own house, and maybe, one day, children. I don't want to die. I have so much I haven't done yet.

But I love my sister. I can't leave her. I am not a nice person, but I will not run away and leave her tethered like a goat for a wild beast. I will not.

I will fight in my own way, and maybe I will win.

But I can see the garden from where I type this, and a horrible cold feeling fills me.

This is a wonderful medium. I would not tell my own mother these things, if she were still with us.

I don't want to die.

If I do not write again, remember that Nabiki Tendo loved something more than money. I need someone to know that.

Feh, I'm being melodramatic. I'll have the stock tips for you next month, bet on it. ;)

-NT

^X

[Send Message?y/n?]

y

[Message sent]

q

ntendo furnkn8%:

logout

It was, for most people, a fine day. But it was a bad day to be a particular oak tree in the park. Mostly because it was getting the snot beat out of it by a girl with an umbrella.

Thrust. Parry. Parry. Feint. Thrust.

Her brother, Mariko reflected, had an annoying habit of making things difficult. If it had been up to her, she simply would have hired a gunman, a hitman of some sort, and that would have been the end of Saotome. Simple, quick, uncomplicated.

But no, her brother was almost fanatical about his "honour", and hiring someone to gun down the source of their family's anguish simply wasn't honourable. They had to do it themselves. And in afair, man-to-man fight. Until Saotome cheated.

Thrust. Riposte. Feint. Jab. Parry.

Stupid boys and their stupid male egos. What damn difference did it make whether Saotome died from a kick to the neck or a bullet in the brain? Either way, he'd be dead, and Ryouga could rest, and they could get back to their lives.

Thrust. Backhand. Thrust.

She had half a mind to walk up to Ranma and just blow his head off. But her brother would never forgive her. Gotta kill him with _honour_, Mariko. He'll still be dead, and it won't bring back a life, but the family honour would be satisfied, yippie yay.

Parry. Charge. Feint. Thrust.

Not that she didn't want Ranma dead just as much as her brother. She wanted to see his blood on the floor. She wanted to watch any family he had weep over the corpse, wanted to hear the cries of pain and anguish. There was a _payment_ owed her, and she was damn well going to collect.

"You're pretty good."

Startled, Mariko turned. A girl, probably about 16, in excellent physical condition. Possible threat. "Thanks."

The girl smiled. "What form is that? It reminds me a bit of Juban Escrima, but the stance is more like Zanji."

Threat. Definite threat. "It's a family school. We picked up parts from many different styles, and combined them to form something far better." Pride filled her voice; the Hibiki-Ryuu _was_ one of the most devastating schools in the world. "I take it you study the Art as well?"

The other girl nodded. "I'm the heir to the Tendo School of Anything-Goes."

Mariko estimated the distance she would need to cover to execute the sweep-kick, the likely dodge, and the force needed to crush the girl's skull. A millisecond later, she decided against it. It would be unfair to hold Ranma against other members of his school. At least to that extent.

"Anything-Goes, huh? I've heard of that. Focuses on underhanded stuff, right?"

The girl frowned. "No, not really. It teaches adaptation to the enemy, not twisting of honour or anything."

Interesting words to choose, dear. Perhaps the lady doth protest a bit too much? "My mistake. Would you care for a match? Nothing rough, and I'll go easy on you..."

A snort. "I'll go easy on _you_."

Mariko executed a short bow, and then sprang forward in a kick. To her surprise, the girl dodged, retaliating with a flurry of straight punches that almost connected. Almost. Her umbrella got in a graze at few seconds later, at the price of a glancing blow to the arm.

The girl was good. But she was better.

Soun stared at the board. He was still winning.

This was odd, considering that he had just left Genma alone at the shoji table for a good ten minutes. Without hanging a

"Please Cheat Now" sign around his neck, he didn't see how he could give his old friend more of an opening.

Soun had reversed five pieces already while Genma's attention was distracted.

The thought that Saotome Genma was being more honest than him both alarmed and worried him. Especially because it had become a trend. Genma was actually taking responsibility for his actions, telling the truth, playing fair. Especially when his son was around.

His son.

Soun wasn't sure how he felt towards Ranma. The boy was polite enough most of the time, and had been through quite a bit, and was a superb martial artist, and Akane liked him a lot...

But there was something wrong about him. Soun trusted his instincts, and his instincts told him to get the boy as far away from his family as possible.

"Saotome-kun."

Genma didn't look up, his eyes scanning the shoji board. "Yes, Tendo?"

"You are my oldest and dearest friend. We suffered under and defeated the Master together, and you were the best man at my wedding. Please, what's wrong?"

His eyes remained on the board. "I've done a terrible thing to the boy, Tendo-kun. It's my fault he's what he is."

"You couldn't have known what Jyusenkyou would..."

"Not Jyusenkyou. Tendo, I was so proud of how far he had come, and I thought I could teach..."

"Mr. Tendo. Pop."

Soun slowly turned. Ranma was sitting on the sofa, looking politely bored. He was sure no-one had been there a second ago. Almost sure. "Ah, Ranma. Glad to have a day off from school?"

Ranma smiled. "I guess so. I'm really enjoying school, though...so many things to learn. I haven't been in class since Pop and I left for China..." The plastic smile melted, and Soun saw a flash of something very unpleasant in his eyes. "Well.

Have fun with your game. Don't let Pop cheat." With a curt nod, he stood and slowly walked upstairs.

Soun turned his attention back to his old friend. "You tried to teach...?"

Genma gave a strained smile. "I meant to say I pushed him a bit too hard. Stress. Nothing to worry about. Your move, Tendo-kun."

Nodding, Soun turned his eyes back to the pieces. Genma would tell him in his own time.

Akane stumbled, took a kick to the upper body, and fell. A second later, the stocky girl's umbrella rested a centimeter from her windpipe.

She looked up at her opponent and laughed delightedly.

From under the tan baseball cap, the other girl grinned back, and extended a hand to help her up. "That...was the best match I've had in a long time. You really are good."

Akane chuckled ruefully, accepting the offered hand. "Maybe, although you did win all three matches." The other girl pulled her easily to her feet; Akane had noticed during the match that her opponent was far stronger than she had any right to be.

"I'm Akane Tendo. I live at the dojo a few streets down."

"Pleased to meet you, Akane. I'm Mariko." She squinted at Akane, as if trying to figure something out, and Akane suddenly had the feeling that she had seen her somewhere before...

"Do you go to Furinkan, Mariko?" Maybe she had seen her in the halls, or in the lunchroom.

The other girl shook her head. "I'm supposed to start there on Monday, but I don't really know where it is." She blushed a bit.

"I've got this problem with directions, and I'm afraid I'll be late the entire first week. Maybe the entire first month."

Akane blinked. "Entire first month? It can't be that bad..."

Mariko's blush grew a bit deeper. "It's that bad. I get lost in closets."

"Well... I'm already walking Ranma to school. If you want, I could take you as well..."

In the blink of an eye, the blush vanished, and Akane felt a wave of uneasiness wash over her. "Ranma? Who's that?"

Akane opened her mouth, wondering how best to put it "He's...he's the son of a friend of my father's. They're staying with us for a while."

Mariko smiled, which somehow didn't make Akane feel any easier. What was wrong? "That's really nice of you, Akane. I'd appreciate it. Could you two pick me up here?"

She nodded. "Sure! Maybe then after school we could do something?"

Mariko smiled again, and this time it wasn't as strangely unnerving. "I'd love that. I'm new in town, and I haven't really had a chance to make many friends." She grinned.

"Besides, you give quite a workout. How on earth did you manage to do that spin-kick? That kind of movement shouldn't be physically possible..."

"Well, it's like this. You have to move your leg out of line with the rest of you while tilting your chest back...see, like so..."

Kasumi hummed and cooked and cooked and hummed. It was time to make dinner. Her life was complete.

Akane hadn't come home yet, but that was all right. It ensured that the meal would be safe for human consumption. It ensured that the salt wouldn't be mysteriously replaced by clorox. It ensured that Kasumi wouldn't have to carry off the rather difficult feat of smiling and looking pleasant whilst vomiting uncontrollably.

It was making Ranma-kun seem a bit on edge, though, which was too bad. He obviously didn't know that it was far better for Akane not to be here. She would have to tell him. Sometime. When she wasn't so busy.

Ranma-kun was a nice boy. A complete psychopath, but a nice boy. Kasumi was sure he and Akane would be very happy together. And he ate a lot, which was the mark of a healthy, growing young man.

Akane opened the front door to come face-to-face with a blank-expressioned Ranma.

"Um, hi, Ranma."

"Where have you been? You were gone all day." A flat tone. Eyes hard, no hint of laughter, mocking or otherwise.

"I was sparring. With a friend. Then we went and got ice cream, and stopped by Furinkan, and went into the city for a bit. Why?"

"Who is he?"

"It's a her. Mariko." Akane began to feel irritated. "You haven't answered my question. Why?"

He looked at her, and his mouth twisted slightly. Akane met his expression with a scowl of her own. What was his problem?

Then he smiled. "Oh, nothin'. Just was a bit worried about you, y'know, being gone all day. You almost missed dinner. Mariko, huh? Have I met her?"

Akane shook her head, the momentary annoyance vanishing. "I don't think so. She's new in Nerima, that's why I was showing her around. We're going to be walking her to school Monday."

Ranma nodded, looking a bit absent. "So you sparred with her, huh? Hope you didn't hurt the poor girl too badly."

She smiled. "She actually seems better than me, to tell the truth. She won all three matches." It would be embarrassing to admit, normally...but Ranma was so far above her in skill that it somehow didn't matter as much. And he certainly had respect for her abilities; perhaps his curse had given him an insight into how annoying it was to be underrated because of one's sex.

He looked surprised, then curious, then...she didn't know, a different sort of curious. "Yeah? You let her win?"

Akane shook her head again. "No, she's just really good. Not so good I couldn't fight back, not like you. Just slightly better that me."

He blushed, and scuffed his foot. "Aw, I'm not _that_ good...I mean, I've just been trainin' all my life, and nothin' but that...you'd be as good as me if you had lived that way, maybe even better."

Would she have been? She trained every day, normally... except when she had something to do with her friends, or when she had schoolwork to complete, or when, for whatever reason, she just didn't feel like it...

Yes, she trained for a whole half an hour.

Maybe, Akane thought, a twinge of jealousy running through her. Maybe if I had worked harder, I would have been as good as Ranma.

And as lonely as Ranma. As rootless as Ranma. As haunted. For a brief second, Akane gave silent thanks that her father had been content to let her train at her own speed, in her own way.

"I could teach you some stuff, you know."

She blinked. "What?"

Ranma leaned forward, the crooked half-smile appearing. "The Art. Your dad's real good, but he's limited. Just like mine. There are things they don't know, and I could teach you them."

"Like...like what?"

"Ways of moving. Ways of training." His eyes seemed to glow for a second, and she felt her heartbeat begin to quicken. "Ways of using ki. Pop has no idea, and I haven't told him."

"So why are you telling me?"

That was the big question, wasn't it? And...

And she didn't know what she wanted the answer to be.

Ranma closed his eyes, and the half smile vanished with the unsettling suddenness with which it had appeared. The confidence was gone, and in it's place was a lost, helpless, scared boy, staring at her like a drowning man stares at a life preserver. "Because... I trust you. You're the only one who listens, really listens. Kasumi's nice, but she's a bit vacant. Nabiki just wants my money, and...wants me to..." He blushed a bit, and the despairing look got deeper. "Your Dad's nice, but he's Pop's friend. You're the only one who really..." He stopped, suddenly, and stared at his shoes.

Slowly, gently, she reached out, placed her hand on his shoulder. He began to look up, and it seemed the world turned on the movement.

"Dinner's ready!"

Akane jerked around to see Kasumi standing at the end of the hall, apron slightly stained. Almost guiltily...why? all she was doing was comforting Ranma...she withdrew her hand from his shoulder. "Thanks, Oneechan!" She turned back to see Ranma gazing at the wall. "I'm hungry. C'mon, Ranma, let's go get dinner."

He turned to her and the smile came out again, twisting his mouth. "Sure. I'm pretty ravenous myself."

Together, they walked into the dining room.

Mariko cursed as the tent once again collapsed into a heap of poles and fabric. "Where on earth did you get this damn thing? And how do you put it up?"

Her brother looked up from the cookfire and gave her a toothy grin. "Hey, we had a deal. If I finish supper before you put up both our tents, I get the better cuts. You think I'm going to help you beat me?"

She scowled. "You set me up."

The grin broadened. "Yup."

Mariko sighed, and flopped down on the heap of canvas. "Okay. At least tell me where you got it."

"Mongolia. It's a sort of modern yurt."

"That would explain the big red star it has on it. How much did it cost you?"

He winced. "Um...nothing."

"Nothing? They just gave it to you?"

The wince turned into a pained look. "Not exactly."

Mariko eyed him speculatively. "Okay, brother mine, now you've got me interested. Spit it out."

"Well...I was following Saotome through China and accidentally wandered into Mongolia. And then I wandered into that tent, and, well..."

"Well?"

"It was being used by, um, a lady."

"Ooooooo. Was she cute?"

"Yes...Hey! It wasn't like that!"

"Ah, so she was decent at the time."

"Well...no, actually she was, um, not wearing anything."

"Boy, sure sounds like it was 'like that' to me..."

He glared at her. "Do you want me to tell the story or not?"

An innocent look. "Go on, by all means."

"Anyway, as soon as I saw her I sorta froze..."

"Was she good in bed?"

"MARIKO!"

She giggled. "Sorry, just joking. Go on, really."

Her brother muttered darkly under his breath. "Anyway, about then her husband came in."

She shrugged. "Why didn't you just beat him up?"

"Because her father and five brothers were with him. And their axes."

"Oh dear. So you ran, right?"

"Yup."

"Good to see you aren't completely stupid when it comes to these things."

"Thank you so very much."

"You're welcome. So you got away, right?"

"Well...I'm here, aren't I?"

"Okay...that still doesn't tell me how you got the tent."

Her brother sighed. "I made a dash for the tent flap, and...sorta went in the wrong direction. When I ran, I kinda took the tent with me."

Mariko smirked. "Yeah, that sounds right. Is the meat done yet?"

"Almost. Pass me the cayenne pepper from my pack, okay?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Uh-uh, I'm not rooting around in there. You probably keep your dirty laundry at the top."

"Huh."

"I almost feel bad about this, y'know."

He turned, face impassive. "If you're having second thoughts about killing him, you don't have to help."

"Not that. I want to rip his heart out of his chest and dance on it. It's just..." She sighed. "I just feel a bit guilty about using that girl."

"This Akane person?"

"Yeah. She seems nice. I like her. I could be friends with her, easy. And I'm going to use her to kill someone."

Her brother shrugged. "You said she's living with him, right? That she seemed almost attracted to him?"

"Yeah. She was real complimentary to him when I pried information out of her. Nervous, too. I don't think she even knows she's in love."

"Then you're doing her a favor, Mariko. Think, how would you guess a love affair with him would go? She'd be lucky if abuse was the worst that happened."

"Akane won't see it that way," she said softly.

He gripped her shoulder. "If you really like Akane, getting rid of him is the best thing you can do. You'll be giving her a few weeks of grief in exchange for her life. He'll kill her, sis, you know he will. Just like he killed..."

"Yeah. And he dies. But I wish..."

"I know."

Monday morning, and everyone was racing to school. The word was out - Kuno was up, and mobile, and _pissed_. It was going to be a good show.

In fact, the only people who weren't racing to school with baited breath were Ranma and Akane. They were walking into the park.

"How come we didn't just pick her up at her house? Does she live across town or something?"

Akane shrugged. "I don't know. She just asked me to pick her up here."

Ranma grinned. "Maybe she likes the great outdoors." He made a sweeping gesture with one arm. "The untamed beauty of the city primeval."

She giggled. "It could be. Apparently she's traveled a lot, just like you."

He nodded. "If she's as good as she'd have to be in order to beat you, she probably has been on a training trip or two. It's necessary to reach the higher levels of the Art."

Akane looked at the ground. "I've never been on one."

Ranma nodded. "I thought so. Your dad's a nice guy, but he's letting your potential go to waste. You could be really great, ya know."

She looked up, eyes brightening. "Do you really think so?"

He nodded. "I really do."

A blush appeared on her face, and they walked on in silence for a while, Akane peering around for her absent friend.

Finally, she pulled to a halt. "She must have gotten lost."

He laughed. "You'd have to be an idiot to not be able to find this park. It's huge, and it's right next to a subway station."

"Yes, but apparently she has this horrible sense of direction." Akane laughed. "She told me she gets lost in closets..."

Suddenly she was on the ground, with Ranma's livid face inches away from hers. "Mariko. I knew I had heard that name before. Hibiki Mariko. You led me right to her, didn't you."

Akane just stared at him in shock.

He laughed bitterly, and stood up. "And you don't get it even now. I'm..."

"...Going to die now."

She watched as Ranma's face went white and impassive. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned to regard the boy in the yellow on black bandanna who perched atop a nearby rock. The boy from the street that day. The one he had called...

"Hello, Ryouga."

The boy laughed, and Akane shuddered. So much hate in a sound normally used to express happiness. So much pain, and desire to share it.

"I bet you thought you'd never see Hibiki Ryouga again, did you? I mean, you left with such closure." He hopped down from the boulder, gracefully landing in a crouch.

Ranma didn't move, didn't react to what was obviously a combat posture. What the hell was he doing? "I didn't mean for it to happen."

The boy's expression moved to one of contempt. "Oh, right. You didn't mean to turn a friendly duel into a God-damn death match. You didn't _mean_ to execute that last kick. Yeah, execute is just the word I was looking for, cuz your target wasn't even awake, right? But hey, you didn't _mean_ it. Not your fault at all."

As Akane watched, mesmerized, Ranma bowed his head a bit. She saw, barely, a look of agony and shame...just for a fleeting second, like a passing breeze...race across his face, vanish, replaced by a impassive stare. "You were the one, Ryouga. That thing with the umbrella...you could have killed me. I still have the scar." He looked back up, and he slowly extended a hand. "Look. There was no harm done. I was your friend, sort of, and you were mine. Can't we bury it?"

"Bury it." The boy laughed again, the sound harsh and bitter. "I've already buried it. And it nearly killed me too, you know? I'll bury one more before you and I are done. No harm done? Don't you remember that snapping noise? The angle to the head, the glaze in the eyes? The way the nosebleed stopped running, just as you started running yourself? Remember, you bastard?"

And Akane saw a horrible, sick expression move over Ranma's face, like a man hearing himself sentenced to death. A realization, a dissolving of hope, the fears, the nightmares, the denials coming true.

"You aren't Ryouga."

"Oh, you're a bright boy. Hibiki Koji. For the honor and peace of my murdered brother, tonight you burn in hell."

The red umbrella swept in low. Ranma jumped over it, and launched a kick at his opponent. To Akane's surprise, it didn't connect; Koji had already flung himself to the side, his feet coming across in a arc that almost took Ranma in the stomach. Almost. Ranma executed a backwards tumble at the last moment, coming to rest in a ready stance.

Koji smiled a shark's grin at his opponent. "Ready to die?"

Ranma smiled back, and the emptiness in his face was somehow worse than the bloodlust in the bandanna'd Hibiki.

"No."

"Too bad. I insist."

And with that, he opened and threw his umbrella like a top. A top married to a buzzsaw.

Akane numbly watched the thing whirl towards Ranma. It was an umbrella. Just an umbrella. How...?

Ranma easily evaded the spinning edges. It whirled onward, cut a tree in half, and spun back in an arc that nearly decapitated Ranma from behind.

She stared for another few seconds, and then scrambled to her feet. Ranma was going to need help.

They were close, now; Koji thrusting and lunging, Ranma jumping, weaving, trying to get in a hit. And he did, on occasion. A jab would connect, a kick to the shoulder would get in a graze.

And Koji didn't even seem to notice. Either he was berserk, Akane decided - which wasn't likely, the rage in his eyes was a cold one - or he was more durable than she had thought humanly possible.

And Ranma...he was no weakling himself. Why didn't he just take a hit or two, giving a flurry of rapid, knockout blows as a trade?

Two seconds later, the umbrella shattered a boulder as it missed Ranma's head by a few centimeters.

That answered that.

Akane suddenly realized that the boy meant everything he had said. He was trying to kill Ranma. Kill him dead, and damn the consequences. This wasn't a playground duel, it was a attempt at murder.

Suddenly, Ranma froze. "Shit, the cops!"

Koji spun in the direction Ranma was looking, and failed to see any policemen. And then his umbrella was ripped from his hands.

He glared at the grinning Ranma. "You dishonorable bastard."

Ranma raised his hands in mock defense. "It's called 'Anything-Goes' for a reason. Now...about this dying bit...ready to practice what you preach?"

And Akane saw Mariko, saw her emerge from the trees behind Ranma, saw that she was raising an umbrella...

...saw her pump the umbrella, heard the *slide-chunk* sound of a shell being loaded, knew exactly what was about to happen...

...heard herself scream, and charge for the Hibiki girl, knowing with a terrible certainty that she would be too late...

...and then realizing with shock and resignation that she was within the line of fire, and hoping that her body would be enough to shield Ranma.

Mariko was possessed by euphoria. His back was to her, his focus on her brother, there was NO WAY IN HELL he could dodge the bullet, literally...

And then Akane was screaming like a madwoman and directly in between the umbrella barrel and Ranma.

Mariko hesitated. The AP-round would hardly notice Akane on the way to its target, but to kill the girl would be...

Her sort-of friend...

Ryouga. Koji. Saotome.

Hell with it. Should have chosen your friends more carefully, bitch.

Her finger came down on the firing stud, just as Akane's kick knocked the barrel out of line. She had waited a millisecond too long.

The umbrella bucked and roared, the bullet coming close enough to Akane's head to clip a large lock of hair. The Tendo girl crashed into her, bearing Mariko to the ground in a tackle. She was ruining everything!

Well. As Akane's fist descended towards her face, Mariko kneed her in the stomach and rolled away, struggling to her feet. The umbrella, she wasn't holding it, where had it gotten to...

Akane leaped up, her eyes gleaming with anger. "Hi, Mariko. Ready for me to walk you to school? I'll give you a nice, long tour of the infirmary!"

Damn, the umbrella was lying in the grass behind the Tendo girl. "Get out of the way, Akane. I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh, right," came the enraged reply. "You just want to murder my friend. If you want your gun, come and get it, you lying, honorless..."

Something snapped. "That bastard killed my brother, girl. Murdered him. He was the one who started fighting dirty, and we'll finish it. Yeah, I tricked you. Sorry. It was for your own good. Now move."

"For my own good? Killing my best friend? What kind of twisted..."

"He's going to kill you, you little idiot! He's a psychopath! Are you blind or something? He'll kill you, just like Ryouga!"

Akane's face contorted. Whoops. Maybe that hadn't been the best tact to take...

She barely dodged Akane's first roundhouse, and the kick caught her in the shin. Muttering a curse, and wishing like hell she had her umbrella, Mariko grimly began counterattacking.

Koji watched in despair as his sister squared off with Akane. Their plan was in tatters, and he was begining to be in real danger of sharing his brother's fate.

Ranma came on, like some unstoppable force of nature. The blows connected more frequently...without his umbrella, Ranma could afford to be hit.

A spinkick clipped his jaw, sending him stumbling back. If this didn't end soon...

Standing, he began his final surprise. Summoning his ki, he began to move in a strange, sudden kata, arms and legs whipping back and forth.

It would probably puzzle Ranma; hard to tell with that mask of cold fury on his face. It appeared that he was coming in regardless.

"Doing the macarena isn't going to help, Hibiki. Good night."

And Ranma unleashed a flurry of punches, which connected, knocking Koji backward.

It seemed to take Saotome a few seconds to notice that his hands and arms were now gushing blood from several slashes.

Koji struggled to his feet, the world swimming in and out of focus. "Neat trick, huh? Cloth can be as sharp as a sword; my brother taught me that. I never quite got the hang of the bandanna thing, but my shirt seems to do nicely."

Ranma started forward. "I'm going to make you suffer. Now that Akane's busy with her playmate..."

Koji painfully grinned. He had succeeded after all. "Come and give it your best shot."

But Saotome stopped, and eyed the flow of blood from the slashes along his wrists. "On the other hand, maybe I'll visit the clinic before I bleed to death. Some other time, Koji. Oh...and your brother was almost as easy as you."

And with that, he darted away.

Out of the corner of her eye, Akane saw Ranma dash out of the park. Behind him, Koji fell to his knees, on the verge of collapse. Mariko's punch caught her a second later, and she reeled back, preparing to fend off the next series of jabs.

They never came. Mariko had noticed Ranma's flight and was running to her brother's side, the umbrella forgotten.

Turning, Akane walked away, slowly at first, then more and more quickly. By the time she left the park, she was running as if every demon in hell was hot on her heels.

Hikaru walked away through the trees, chuckling to himself. Nabiki would be very interested in this, and things Nabiki took an interest in were generally good for business, one way or another.

He would tell her in person. Perhaps the ice queen's mask would slip. Perhaps.

- End of Chapter 4 -


	5. Chapter 5

**THIS STORY IS NOT MINE, IT BELONGS TO MARK W. LOADER AND SUSAN DOENIME**

Chapter 5 - Idle Conversation

But do you come to take me out

Or do you come to put me in?

Do you come to yield to me?

...Or do you come to win?

-The Flash Girls

A homogeneous country, Japan, although not as much as some Japanese would like. After all, there are the Koreans, a few Chinese, Burakumin, a handful of westerners, the Ainu...

The Burakumin are avoided. The westerners are tolerated and enthused over. The Ainu were here first, which makes telling them to go back where they came from a bit problematic.

But the Chinese and Koreans have no such defense, and tend to get the short end of the stick in many cases.

In this particular case, a sixteen-year-old Chinese boy was smiling at the ten dockworkers closing in on him with hammers, belaying pins, and lengths of wood or pipe. He had made the mistake of knocking out the man who lay unmoving behind him, who had in turn made the mistake of thinking that Chinese could be spit upon without fear of reprisal.

"Go away," the boy told them. They didn't.

He shrugged. Warning had been given. It wasn't his fault.

One of the dockworkers died in the hospital a week later. Two of the other nine were released from intensive care at around the same time, and it was hoped the other seven would regain mobility of a sort within the month.

The boy, had he known, would have taken no satisfaction in this. On the other hand, neither would he have felt any grief. The moment his weapons had been put back in their places, the men had ceased to matter. They weren't of his tribe, or that of his allies or enemies. They were Japanese, and foolish, unskilled ones at that. Whether they lived or died was of no import to him.

After all, none of them was named Saotome Ranma.

* * *

Akane ran, almost sobbing.

Everything had changed. Everything. One second her life was speeding along, right on track - a new friend and sparring partner, Ranma beginning to open up to her - and the next...

Derailment.

Her 'friend', along with her brother, had just tried to kill Ranma. And Ranma had apparently not opened up to her all _that_ much, because he had neglected to mention the fact that he had killed someone a few years back. She fought back a hysterical giggle; it admittedly wasn't exactly the sort of thing you worked into conversation over dinner. "Pass the rolls, please, Kasumi. I had a good day at school, think I got an A on my calc test. I like your shirt today, Akane. I murdered someone a few years back. Can I have some more soy sauce, please?"

Okay, she could see how he might not want to talk about it, how he wouldn't tell his only friend. He had said he was friends with that other boy, didn't he? So he had a few problems, but she had known that, and it wasn't like he didn't feel _bad_ about it, how many people feel bad about killing someone, how many people kill someone in the first place oh god oh god oh god...

She had a lot of questions to ask Ranma when she caught up to him. He had gotten a head start on her, but that wasn't really a problem.

She choked back another spate of tears as she barreled around a corner, leaving a shoeprint in the puddle of blood on the sidewalk.

Ranma was leaving her a trail. If he left much more of one, she didn't think he'd survive. There were streaks of crimson marring the street all the way to...

Panting, she pulled to a stop. The clinic. That's right, he had asked her to point it out to him the second day he was here.

"Planning on getting injured?" she had teased.

He had grinned back. "Not really. Just like to be prepared."

Doctor Tofu would take care of him. Yes. He always took care of her, after all...

Not that she had ever been in danger of bleeding to death.

With a low moan, Akane began to walk toward the clinic, forcing herself to ignore the trail of red on the sidewalk. She was going to walk. Not run, walk. Ranma would be fine, and things would be straightened out.

Walk. One foot in front of the other, don't look down.

He killed someone.

Walk.

* * *

Opening his eyes, Koji groaned. He really, really hurt. A lot. No bones broken, from the feel of things, but he seemed to have picked up bruises in places he hadn't even known existed. It would be at least a day or two before he was back to top fighting potential.

A cold, damp cloth brushed against his forehead, the sensation wonderfully soothing against the pain. Leaning his head back, he saw his sister slowly wipe his forehead. She didn't look happy.

"Hey... how'd we do?"

Mariko scowled at him. "I don't know. Saotome took off running, and Akane followed him. I decided to make sure you weren't dead instead of following them."

Damn, he thought. "I might have got him... did you see the way his wrists were bleeding? Like a stuck pig! He'll be weak; assuming he's even alive. I'll go see if I can catch up..." He began to rise, and a wave of nausea and pain swept over him. Frowning, Mariko pushed him back onto his bedroll.

"You're staying right here, brother mine. After the pounding you took, I'm surprised you woke up at all. He unloaded a series of direct punches on you, near the end, and Ranma isn't exactly a wimp."

Koji flashed her a toothy smile. "Yeah, well, Hibikis are tough. Comes from clean living and healthy exercise."

"You call this healthy exercise?"

"What does not kill you makes you stronger."

Rolling her eyes, Mariko drenched the cloth in a nearby bucket. "That's great. Just great. I have a masochist for a brother. No wonder you aren't dead; nothing Ranma has could possibly hurt that thick skull."

"Excuse me? Who was the seven-year-old who got into a headbutting contest with the goat in the petting zoo? And won?"

She grinned. "Well, it ate my sun hat. My Speed Racer sun hat. Think I was going to let it get away with that?" Standing, she assumed a over-dramatic pose and shook her fist at the sky. "Cursed billy goat! You have eaten my favorite hat and brought shame to my family name! Tonight, you burn in hell!" She held the pose and grim expression for a little over four seconds before collapsing into laughter. Unable to help himself, Koji joined her.

"Haha... *gasp* Now.. heh... look what you did. It hurts when I laugh!"

Mariko found this even funnier, for some reason, and Koji discovered that if you've just been laughing and another person starts, you are forced by instinct to join in.

"Haheh... OW, Mariko...heheh...ow...he...ha..."

Wiping her eyes, still giggling, she turned her attention back to her ministrations. For his part, Koji rested; letting his mind relax along with his body, letting his ki lap through himself like waves against a shoreline. A slow breath in, a slow breath out, and the world encompassed and defined by the rhythm of it.

Mariko noticed the inward state her brother was working towards, and slowly stopped moving the cloth along his brow. She had a deep and powerful compulsion to break him out of it with a light slap of the rag across his face, but the desire to tease was stilled by necessity. He was entering a meditative sequence designed to channel one's life force towards repair and renewal; as long as he was uninterrupted, he should be almost back to normal after a few hours and a good night's sleep. Normal people would be in the hospital for weeks, or already dead. But, as her brother had pointed out, Hibikis were not normal people. They could take just about anything.

Except broken necks.

The last of her good feelings vanished, replaced by a cold, icy sense of rage and disappointment. They had HAD him, the plan had worked perfectly, and if that stupid Tendo girl hadn't thrown herself in the way...

Mariko sighed. She couldn't even bring herself to hate Akane, that was the worst of it. What was she supposed to do, swear vengeance because the girl was willing to take a bullet for a friend? However misguided it had been, Mariko couldn't help but acknowledge the courage of it.

Which, of course, hadn't stopped her from trying to kill Akane.

She frowned. That wasn't precisely true either. She had hesitated just long enough for Akane to knock the umbrella out of line, a momentary flash of - guilt? squeamishness? pity? - causing her to miss a golden chance to end Saotome's miserable life.

Opportunity had knocked, but she had been in the bathroom reading the sports section.

Snarling, she angrily wrung out the cloth. No more Miss Nice Guy. Akane was in her way, in her way despite having been warned and despite the fact that her own well-being was in danger. If Akane had to - decided to - die along with Ranma, well, she wouldn't hesitate again. She'd just try to make it as painless as possible. This was war, and in war you only participated if you were willing to die without onus of shame

to your killer.

"So why do I feel so guilty?" she muttered to a passing butterfly.

The butterfly lit on her nose and told her at great length, but the effort was wasted since Hibikis didn't speak Butterfly.

* * *

Akane arrived at the clinic to find Doctor Tofu waiting for her, a serious expression on his normally smiling face. Her heart froze.

"Akane, are you here for your friend?"

"Y-yes... he's... he's going to be okay, right?"

She was almost certain the doctor would shake his head sadly, or say that it was too soon to tell. That's what the doctors had done with her mother, after all... an endless barrage of 'need more tests' and 'too early to tell how effective'. She didn't remember any of this, but Nabiki and Daddy did. And they talked about it, the both of them, on certain late nights with Kasumi hovering in the background like a spectre who's punishment after death was the eternal replacing of empty cups. Akane didn't like to be around the house at those times.

"He'll be fine, Akane. He lost a bit of blood, but he had the good sense to tie a tourniquet around his arms as he came down. I've sewn up the worst of the cuts and bandaged the others." He frowned, and the stern gaze became even more intense. Akane shrank back a little; Doctor Tofu was normally friendly and gentle, not at all like the grim figure in front of her. "What I need to know is how he got the cuts in the first place. The truth, now."

She stared back at him, mind turning in circles. Why did he need to know? Would he call the police? Was he...

She shook her head angrily. "He hurt himself sparring, Doctor. He was being stupid and over..."

Tofu put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Akane, I realize that he's your friend. But if he's got problems, they need to be brought into the open. He might try this again, and next time he might not have second thoughts."

Blinking, Akane looked at him blankly. What was he talking about?

Comprehension dawned suddenly, and she almost laughed in spite of herself. "Oh, Doctor Tofu, are you saying you thought he had tried to kill himself?"

The doctor looked taken aback. "I had assumed so, yes. The cuts on the wrists and arms..."

"Oh no," she interrupted firmly. "No, it wasn't a suicide attempt. I saw the whole thing, and it was just a sparring accident. Really, doctor."

Seemingly reassured by her surprise at the idea, Tofu nodded. "I'm going to keep him here for the rest of the day, just to make sure I didn't miss anything. I'll send him home in time for dinner." He smiled suddenly, and again was the friendly family doctor she was used to. "He's got phenomenal stamina, and is in better shape than anyone I've ever seen. Just goes to show that if you take care of your body, it will return the favor. Very calm, too, for someone who had his wrists slashed open. That and the placement of the cuts was why I thought.. well.. never mind. I suppose the scuffmarks on his clothing should have given it away." Glancing at his watch, the doctor frowned. "Shouldn't you have been in school?"

Akane groaned. "Oh no..."

Smiling, Tofu reached into a pocket and pulled out a prescription pad. Jotting a note on it, he handed it to her. "Here. This says that there was a medical emergency, and I recruited you to help out. Not too terribly far from the truth, and enough to satisfy your teachers, I should think."

Taking the note, Akane smiled up at him gratefully.

* * *

Kuno Tatewaki was irked.

He was back on his noble feet after nearly a week of recuperation and hobbling about. He had lovingly crafted a new Sword of Honour out of the finest and most sturdy polycarbon wood substitute. He had gathered his vassals, the mighty Furinkan Kendo Club, in case Saotome brought an army. He had ordered Mishima Heavy Industries Anti-Elephant Sonic Emitters in case the fiend tried to use his hell-spawned power over pachyderms again. He had watched 'The Seven Samurai' 23 times last night.

He was ready to Smite.

But no-one wanted to play with him today.

"WHERE IS SAOTOME RANMA!"

The playground was silent. This wasn't surprising, since everyone else had given up and gone to class 15 minutes ago.

Kuno fumed and stalked imperiously across the field of battle, which also served as the field of hopscotch at recess. That coward! How dare he not show for his just punishment!

"SAOTOME! TRULY YOU ARE THE BASEST OF MEN!"

"Yeah, well, no argument there, Kuno-chan."

He turned, his face adopting a sour expression. "Ah, Tendo Nabiki-san. What fell tidings do you bring me?"

Stepping out of the school archway, Nabiki scowled. "Ranma won't be showing up, Kuno. Not today."

"WHAT!" roared Kuno. Nabiki sighed.

"He suffered an injury earlier today, I'm afraid. He's out of it for right now."

"An outrage! No doubt his wound was self-inflicted to avoid the fury of my just wrath!"

Nabiki nodded. "That's exactly what I heard, Kuno-chan."

"Do not call me that."

"Okay, Tatchi."

"Or that."

"Anything you say, Kunster."

"I hate you."

Nabiki rolled her eyes. "Nice to know. Anyway, he's at the

Ono Clinic. Go get him."

"No."

"Great, he doesn't stand a...what do you mean, NO?"

Kuno shrugged expansively. "He is wounded. The Blue Thunder does not fight wounded men."

"But.. but..! You'll never get a better chance!"

Again the shrug. "Saotome is a peasant. I may dispatch him at mine leisure."

Nabiki gritted her teeth, keeping her urge to throttle the kendoist in check with difficulty. "Kuno-ch... -san, think of Akane! Think of the undescribable torment she suffers at his foul hands! Oh when, oh when will this wickedness end? Who will save my poor sister from his base clutches?"

"I SHALL!" Kuno thundered. Nabiki smiled.

"I GO!"

"Go, oh hero!"

"I GO TO FIND AKANE!"

"Yes, go to... NO! Go get Ran..." Nabiki trailed off as Kuno raced out the gate.

"Wonderful. Just wonderful." Nabiki buried her head in her hands. "If only that vast and mighty stupidity could be directed towards a _useful_ goal..."

"Oneechan! Hey!"

Nabiki looked up to see Akane walking in the gate Kuno had so recently departed by. "Hi, sis. You're late. Kuno just left a few seconds ago."

Akane smirked. "Oh darn. What are you going out here? School started twenty minutes ago."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard you got into a fight..." Nabiki trailed off, peering at her sister. Something looked out of place...

"Akane! What happened to your hair?"

Grimacing, Akane fingered the spot where Mariko's blast had clipped a lock away. "Part of the fight, Nabiki. I'm probably going to have to cut it short, like I used to." She sighed, feeling a little melancholy. "I always liked it better short, anyways. I only wore it long because..." Realizing what she was saying, Akane blushed. "Well, it's not important any more."

Nabiki raised an eye speculatively. "Not interested in any more photos of Tofu, then?"

"Ssssh!" hissed Akane, glancing around nervously. "No, not anymore. I was just trying to compete with Kasumi, I think. Doctor Tofu's nice, but... it was a little kid thing, okay?"

Nabiki nodded, carefully refraining from mentioning that the 'little kid thing' had been going strong three weeks ago. Akane was opening up to her, and Nabiki desperately needed to know certain things.

"So how's Ranma?" she asked, doing her best to make the question sound casual. He probably wasn't dead, unfortunately; Akane wasn't in tears.

"He's got some bad cuts," Akane replied. "Exactly how much _have_ you heard about what happened, Nabiki?"

"Just that there was a big fight between you and him and some other pair," Nabiki lied. "That's all. Did he win?"

Hesitating for a second, Akane nodded. "I think so. The other guy got knocked out at the very end, or close to it. But Ranma had to dash to the clinic to keep from... I mean, to get his cuts looked at."

"And how'd you do?"

Akane looked embarrassed. "I disarmed my opponent, and held my own in the rest of the fight. It broke up when Ranma raced off." She kicked a rock angrily. "I don't know if I would have won or not."

Nabiki smiled. "Probably. You KO half the male population of Furinkan every morning." She paused idly, knowing that the next question would be a delicate one. "So what got these two so riled up?"

Sure enough, Akane's face darkened. "I don't know," she said curtly. "Some stupid grudge against Ranma. Look, shouldn't we both get to class? I don't want to miss any more than I have to, and Ranma'll want me to get a copy of the homework for him." Pushing past her sister, she stalked into the school.

Nabiki sat down heavily on the steps.

Hikaru had told her everything, from the words Ranma and Koji had exchanged before the fight to the details of the battle. The story had frightened and excited her, given her both wonderful news and confirming her worst fears.

Ranma was definitely a killer. If he had murdered his best friend, he could do it again here and now. And he probably would, eventually. Not only that, but a maniac with a shotgun had almost killed Akane earlier this morning.

On the positive side, the maniac had been aiming for Ranma, an idea which Nabiki felt was a good one. Ranma now had two enemies who could stand up to him in physical combat, and who both wanted him dead. An incredible asset, that. She would have to get in contact with the Hibikis, cut some deals with them. Like helping them to bag Ranma. And keeping their fucking guns pointing _away_ from her sister.

Yeah, it sounded like a case of psycho vs psycho, and she was going to back the one that _wouldn't_ hang around after the other guy died.

Nabiki shivered, feeling suddenly cold. When had someone's death become an ordinary objective for her? She was going to help kill a human being. What was she becoming?

"Better him than me," she whispered. And better him than Akane.

Damn him, she thought. Damn him for making me do this.

* * *

Kuno raced along the streets of Nerima, looking for his one true love.

He had absolutely no idea where she might be, but that didn't worry him overmuch. Experience had taught him that if he ran around long enough, he would eventually run into Akane. And then he would run into Akane's foot, but his memory usually edited out that part. If he just persisted, he would find her.

He had been following this course of action for roughly half an hour when he heard the sounds of violence. This was appealing, and often a sign of Akane's presence, so he followed them into the park.

After much tramping through dense wilderness, he spied a sight which made his heart sing. Silhouetted behind a stand of light trees was an obviously female figure, going through a series of kicks and punches. The sounds of martial exertion were equally feminine.

"TENDO AKANE!" Kuno gleefully bellowed, leaping through the trees. "YOUR LOVE IS HERE!" With the skill born of months of practice, he glomped onto...

Something was wrong. The build... the height... the breast size...

Kuno realized that the person he was clutching was, although female, not Akane. A split second later, a very heavy umbrella slammed into his skull. He found himself flying into a very hard tree, and then was surprised to note that his face seemed to be in buried in the dirt.

Mariko, who was not at all in a good mood, kicked him hard in the stomach. "Hentai! Try to grope defenseless women, will you? Sheesh, and I thought the parks in Japan were safe during the day..."

"A thousand pardons, madam," he tried to say. What came out was more like "Whurgle wagga whoosh?"

"OH, NOW MAKING FILTHY SUGGESTIONS?" *WHAMWHAMWHAM*

"Augh... my apologies...ow...thought you were...Tendo Akane..."

Snorting, Mariko turned to leave. "Dumb choice of targets, buddy. She'd have beat the crap outta you too."

"Who... are... you?"

"Hibiki Mariko. Stay out of my park."

She walked off towards her campsite, and thus missed the last thing Kuno said before finally giving in to unconsciousness.

"Hibiki Mariko... I.. would...date... with...youarughaaa..."

* * *

Akane stood outside Ranma's bedroom door for the third time in twenty minutes.

He had come home from Doctor Tofu's and gone straight upstairs. He hadn't looked at any of them, had just walked through the house like a robot.

She had ran after him, meaning to talk, but had thought better of the idea. He needed time to be home, time to get used to his surroundings again, time for them to sooth him.

Ten minutes later she had walked down the hall, stared at his door, and walked back to her room.

And now, here she was again.

Part of here didn't want to hear what he had to say. Part of her was afraid, afraid of him telling her that it was all true, or that he wasn't sorry, or...

Akane shook her head angrily. This was important. She had to know, and Ranma had to get it off his chest. She had a feeling that it was one of the things that haunted his dreams, and sometimes the only way to exorcise those kind of demons was to bring them out into the light

Steeling herself, she knocked.

"Come in."

She slowly opened the bedroom door, both relieved and alarmed at the flatness of his tone. The lights were off, and she could see him sitting crosslegged on his futon, staring at the vase of cherry twigs opposite the window.

"Hello, Akane."

"Hi, Ranma."

There were no chairs in the room, and for a moment she just stood awkwardly in the doorway. Ranma's gaze remained transfixed on the vase, his eyes dull. After what seemed to be an hour of seconds, Akane carefully picked her way over to where he sat.

"Ranma?"

He did not look at her. "Yes?"

"About... about what happened in the park... do you want to talk about it? I mean, if you don't that's okay too, but I really think you should, to someone at least.." The works came out in a rush and she swallowed, her mouth feeling suddenly dry.

Ranma chuckled softly, a sound devoid of any humor, and turned to look at her.

"It was years ago. I was in a school... boys' school, back then I was male all the time, twenty-four hours a day, rain or shine. And there was this kid called Ryouga who would spar with me. And I'd win. I was better than him.

"So one day, just before I left for China, he calls a duel." Ranma laughed again, the thin sound a curious contrast to the expression on his face. "He had the worst sense of direction, you know. I waited two days in this vacant lot where the fight was set to be, and it took him three days to make it. I'd have left on day four if he still hadn't shown, I think.

"But he showed, and we fought. And he was good. Had a new trick. An umbrella."

Ranma pulled his shirt up off over his head, and Akane colored slightly. "Uh, Ranma..."

"Just illustrating a point." Taking her hand, he put it on his side. "Feel that?"

"What..." she began to say, then stopped, feeling a imperfection marring the soft skin, a slight depression. Removing her hand, she looked carefully at the area.

Although it was well-healed, there had obviously been a long, deep cut running along the length of his side.

"You saw that trick Ry... I mean, Koji did with the umbrella. The buzzsaw. I got this from that." His face contorted suddenly.

"I couldn't believe it, all the blood... I thought he had killed me, that I was dying... and so I hit him, and hit him, and hit him, and they screamed at me to stop but I COULDN'T!" His voice was shrill, thin, a man trying to scream in a whisper. "I just kept hitting him so that he wouldn't finish me off, so that maybe I'd live, so that I wouldn't die without a fight, and then he didn't move. And I'd killed him, somehow. I don't know what

I did to make him die. I didn't do anything special, really, just hit him. God, I didn't. I didn't want to, and I thought that maybe I hadn't but I did. I did. I did." He stared at her for a second, looking almost pathetically confused, and slowly began to cry.

Akane reached out and pulled him close to her, her mind flooded with pity and grief and guilty relief. A stupid playground fight, with two boys who didn't know when to stop. And the result is one of them dead and the other dying slowly from guilt. It was better than what she'd feared... although part of her had hoped he'd tell her he hadn't killed anyone.

"God, I killed him, I killed him..."

"Shh. Shh. Come on, now. You didn't mean to, and you... you weren't entirely in control of your actions. People do funny things when they're faced with death, and it sounds like you... snapped for a few minutes."

The sobs grew deeper, more despairing. "I'm not _supposed_ to snap, I can _never_ snap, I'm a killer, I killed him..."

"Ranma, it's okay. Come on, now."

"It's not okay. It'll never be okay."

"Ranma, tearing yourself up like this isn't going to bring him back. You've got to come to terms with it, face it."

He lifted his head from where it was buried in her shoulder and looked at her soundlessly, tears trickling their way down his cheeks.

"I thought you'd hate me," he said simply.

"I could never hate you."

And he actually managed to smile.

"Uh," he said hesitantly, pulling away a bit, "maybe I'd better put my shirt back on. Bit of a draft."

Akane blushed, realizing that she'd been holding a half-naked boy embarrassingly close. "Yeah."

He pulled the shirt on, and smiled again, hesitantly, as if trying the expression on to see if it fit.

"Thanks. I think I needed... well... it's been in the back of my mind for years now. I just didn't know, and now that it... that I... well..."

"I know. You just can't keep things like that inside you, or they'll eat away your soul."

He shuddered, and a shadow seemed to flicker across his face for a second. "Yeah."

Standing, she walked for the door. "Come on. We're eating dinner in a few minutes, and you want to get your share, right?"

"Of course." He gave a mock bow. "After you, Akane."

* * *

The boy entered Nerima at roughly the same time the Tendos and Saotomes sat down to dinner.

Exactly where his quarry was, he did not know. Subtlety, save in the nuances of combat, was not his forte. The sources he had used to track Ranma this far had been unreliable, or mystical, or in many cases both.

Now, staring out the window of the train at the shadowy forms of buildings, he wondered what he would do once he _did_ catch up. He was good, among the best of his people, but Ranma... Ranma had already beaten him once. It had been a long fight, a close one at times, but it had been decisive. Unless Ranma had made a major error, the outcome of the fight had never been in doubt.

That was then, this was now. He was better than he had been that day.

But maybe Ranma was, too.

"Nerima Ward! Passengers disembarking at Nerima Ward, stand ready!"

The wheels screeched as the train began to brake. Shuddering, the Chinese boy prepared to stand. He _hated_ machines like this; all that raw power without skill and spirit guiding and shaping it. His people shunned them, which only made having to deal with them all the more unsettling.

No matter how good Ranma was, he would only be fighting for his life. The boy was fighting for something infinitely more important, and the penalty for failure was far, far worse than a violent death.

If he could not win, he would force Ranma to kill him. He smiled bitterly; that, at least, probably wouldn't be hard.

He asked himself for the thousandth time whether or not he hated Ranma, and was again surprised to find that the answer was no. It would be, he supposed, like hating the ocean for drowning people. Ranma was a horribly skilled wild animal, and needed to be put down, or at least steered away from his people.

Some of the elders had wanted to bring him into the tribe, like the law called for. The boy clenched his fists at the thought, fighting down the wave of nausea that accompanied it. Khu Lon, matriarch, clan elder, ancestor, had seen Saotome for what he was, and had told the boy what must be done.

The train ground to a stop, and he stood to make his way down the aisle. An unexpected lurch of the floor caused him to stumble, and the conductor peered at him with concern.

"Hey, kid! Can you see okay?"

The boy shrugged. "Fine, yes, yes. Thank you."

"Okay, just thought with that eyepiece you have on..."

"Can see fine, thank you."

He sighed. He hated trains, he hated Japan, and he hated wearing this thing.

Disembarking, he walked through the station, unsure of where to go next. Ranma was somewhere in Nerima. Nerima was not exactly small.

If he were Ranma, where would he go?

Out raping and pillaging, he thought sourly.

No, it had to be something of permanence. The vision had been very clear on that. Saotome would settle in Nerima, and then...

-Great-Grandmother! What is that?-

-He gathers forces around him, child-

The whirlpool spiraled around him, water roaring against the jagged rocks lining it, and at it's heart was Ranma. Ranma, standing over the bleeding body of a red-haired girl, his triumphant laughter mingling with her screams of horror and the crashing of the waves. The waters took forms; a twenty-armed woman of deceit, two siblings of flame, a woman superimposed upon a small boy, a man who held a beam of sunlight, and a girl who was somehow a key, and a sword, and something too blindingly pure to be real...

The waves converged.

Shouts arose, of fury and grief and of savage joy, only to be drowned out by the rising crash of the waves.

-Great-Grandmother, I cannot see! What is the outcome?-

-Child, this is an omen, not a film. I have given you the place and the players. You must be the one to tell me how it ends.-

-Yes, Great-Grandmother.-

-Mu Tsu, do you understand?-

He forced his memories away. Stupid Mousse.

Stupid, stupid Mousse.

Perhaps Saotome was training. He did, after all, seem to live for his killer's skills. Yes.

He would need a room with a telephone, and a business directory.

Turning, the boy walked out into the night. It obligingly swallowed him.

* * *

Morning came early to the park. Joggers puffed along their accustomed trails, vagrants roused themselves from benches, children happily threw themselves onto playground equipment.

Squirrels chattered critically at all the activity from the bushes, and waited for food to be left unattended.

In the exact center of the park, past a wooded region of bamboo stands and light trees, lay a small lake. It wasn't very deep; a man could easily wade across if he didn't mind the scummy water ruining his clothing.

At the center of the lake was a island, rising out of the water, and thick with reeds and saplings. And at the center of the island, out of sight beyond the shielding vegetation, were two tents, one sporting a large red star.

The Hibikis, aware that Ranma might decide to find them, had chosen the most defensible place in the park to set up camp. The fact that police or park custodians would likely be unable to find them was also appealing.

At least, thought Nabiki, those were probably the reasons for building it there. They were certainly the reasons she'd select the site for.

She stood on the shoreline, staring across the water at the isle, shivering slightly beneath her toggle coat. It was cold out here in the mornings, especially when you were standing next to a large body of water.

And she really didn't feel like wading.

Okay. The Hibiki lunatics wouldn't stand for ruining their clothing every time they wanted to go for a walk. Ergo, there must be a way to cross without getting soaking wet.

Perhaps a boat of some sort?

Trotting around the shoreline, Nabiki peered into the denser clumps of reeds. Nothing.

Maybe a, hmm, a glider?

She shook her head. That was ridiculous.

Something to carry them over the water, perhaps? A line, or...

Nabiki looked up at the trees, checking to see whether any of the branches were long enough to bridge the lake. Nope. Nor did any of them hold a rope to go hand over hand across.

She swore. Unless they were the next coming of the Christian Jesus and could walk across water, she just didn't see how they managed it.

Okay. Analytical thinking time. She didn't know how they got across and back. What did she know?

Peering about the shore, Nabiki looked for anything out of the ordinary, anything that didn't blend. A broken bush, perhaps, or...

There. There was a jagged hole in the ground, a shallow crater.

Walking over to it, Nabiki examined it critically. How did a hole in the ground help them cross?

No, wrong line of thought. Better - why was there a hole in the ground?

Answer - something had been pulled out of the earth. What? A rock.

Nabiki grinned.

Doing a swift circuit of the area, she found five other holes. She also found a bamboo shaft that would do nicely, once she harvested it. Closing her eyes, she focused herself.

"TAO!"

Her hand impacted the hard bamboo, and the slender tree snapped neatly in half. Wincing, Nabiki picked up the newly-made staff. Akane might break piles of bricks into rubble for jollies, but Nabiki was only up to stacks of wood, and those infrequently at best. Martial arts were a handy tool for self-defense and self-discipline, but Nabiki felt no urge to progress beyond a simple black belt.

Moving to the shore, she poked at the water with the staff. It was around here some.. ah, there it was.

Clever, those two. They had taken rocks and placed then just under the waterline, perhaps an inch or two below the surface. The murky, algae-filled water hid them from sight, and gave the Hibikis a set of concealed stepping stones. Very cute.

Carefully, using the pole as a balance, Nabiki stepped onto the first stone. It felt slightly greasy beneath her rubber soles; lake scum had already begun to grow on it. Lifting the pole, she poked about until she found the next step.

Extending her right leg forward as far as possible, placing the staff to the bottom to serve as a stabilizer, she hopped across. Two down, four more...

Her eyes narrowed. If the rocks were evenly spaced... and a quick prod with the pole told her that the next one was... then only three more stones should have been needed.

Hefting the bamboo pole, she forcefully pressed it against the submerged top of the next stone. Sure enough, it tilted when weight was placed on it. Had she hopped to it, she would have found herself in the lake.

Smirking to herself a bit, Nabiki poked a ways behind the rock. The staff's tip hit the fourth stone almost immediately.

Nabiki sighed. This was going to be more of a jump than a hop.

She tensed the muscles of her legs and leaped, using the pole as a vaulting aid. Her jump brought her down on the fourth rock in a crouch; she swayed, tightened her grip on the pole to steady herself, and rested for a few seconds.

A few seconds work found the fifth stone, and then the sixth. Stepping onto the shore, Nabiki carefully set the pole down against a stand of similar bamboo trees.

Then the sound of clapping reached her.

Turning, she noticed the two Hibiki siblings sitting on a hammock slung between two trees, neutral expressions on their faces as they applauded.

* * *

*ring*ring*ring*

"Tendo-ke, moshi-moshi."

"You have student? Saotome Ranma?"

"Oh my, Ranma? I think he's still asleep. Did you want to talk

to him?"

*click*

"Hello? Hello?" Puzzled, Kasumi placed the phone back on it's cradle and resumed her dusting. It couldn't, she supposed, have been very important. Should she mention it to Ranma? Why bother? Besides, Ranma needed to be concentrating on more important things, like school, and getting three well-balanced meals, and marrying Akane.

Kasumi smiled. They really were perfect for each other. Both were incredibly violent people. Not at all like her or Nabiki...

She frowned. How did Nabiki ever expect to get a husband if she persisted on being independent and opportunistic? Admittedly it did bring in a lot of badly-needed money, but still...

Perhaps Nabiki had gotten up early to meet a boy? A romantic cup of coffee, perhaps? That would be nice.

* * *

"Tea, Miss Tendo? Coffee?"

"Coffee, thanks," Nabiki replied, slightly amused by the bandanna'd Hibiki's solitiousness. They had walked through a clump of trees to a small campsite; two tents, a few folding chairs, and a firepit. A laundry line had been set up between two branches.

Koji poured her a cup of jet black liquid from a metal pot that had been set in the fire's dying embers. "Here you are."

"Thanks." She took a gulp, feeling the need for some sort of stimulant. It was, after all, much more early than she was accustomed to rising...

"Careful, it's..."

She choked a little as the coffee hit her tongue, and swallowed with difficulty.

"...a bit strong. More Espresso than coffee, really."

Nabiki glared at him. Koji managed to look apologetic. Mariko just looked amused.

Right, Nabiki thought. To business. "Okay. I've told you my name, and I already know who you two are. I want to cut a deal."

Mariko scowled. "If you're here to plead for Saotome's life, you're wasting your time. I already told your sister..."

"'Told' isn't what you did, lady," snapped Nabiki. "You tried to blow her head off. Now listen - I'm not my sister. I don't want to stop you from killing Ranma; on the contrary. I want what you want."

The Hibikis seemed taken aback. Koji swirled his own cup, and squinted at her thoughtfully.

"No offense, Miss Tendo, but why? He's a guest in your house, and your sister's in love with him."

Nabiki nodded. "Exactly. _I_know_what_he_is_. And I think that he knows that I know." She closed her eyes for a second, purposefully letting the stress of the past week show. "I don't know what kind of sick game he's playing with Akane, but I don't like it. And I'm afraid of what might happen when he decides it's time for the game to end."

Nodding, Mariko poured herself a cup of coffee. "You're very perceptive, Tendo-san."

"Nabiki, please."

"Nabiki. Very perceptive." Sipping the coffee, she visibly sagged, her powerful frame seeming to deflate. "I wish that I had been so concerned about Ranma years ago. I might still have another brother."

Frowning slightly, Koji placed his hand on his sister's. "Marichan, we've been through this before." Mariko nodded, and straightened a bit. "So," she said, gazing at Nabiki, "what sort of deal are you looking for?"

Nabiki put on her best salesperson's face and voice. "I'm no fighter, not like you two..."

"Black belt, I'd guess."

"Very good," Nabiki replied. "I've had some training. Ranma would rip out my heart and feed it to me in a matter of seconds. What I do have, however, is information." She leaned forward, her eyes glinting with the thrill of the deal. She was about to reveal part of her hand, and a part that might well be fatal to her if Ranma ever learned of it.

"When you first saw Ranma, Koji, that day in the street... you were being watched. When you ate lunch together in the Akai no Kasa, you were being watched. Yesterday, when you almost put Ranma out of our misery, you were being watched."

"You've been spying on us," Mariko said sourly. "I was wondering how you knew where we had camped."

Nabiki shrugged. "I keep people watching everything that bears a relation to Ranma. Him, I have watched every time he leaves the house. I'd bug the rooms if I wasn't sure he'd find them."

Koji stared at her. Mariko just whistled. "Thorough, aren't we?" Another shrug. "It's a living; quite literally in this case."

"So," Koji said, "you have Ranma followed and you have us followed. What's the deal?" He looked a bit annoyed, Nabiki noticed, probably at the revelation that he had been watched without his knowledge. Hibiki Koji, she felt, was the straightforward type.

"The deal, Koji-san, is that I feed you information. News on his whereabouts, his habits, his routines, what he has for dinner, how many squares of toilet paper he uses. Know your enemy, right?"

Both Hibikis smiled predator's grins.

Nabiki considered her next statement carefully. "In return, I want your word that you won't harm me, my sister, or any other member of my family. For ANY reason. Got that?"

Koji rubbed his chin. "Nabiki-san, we have nothing against any of your family. I don't see why you think we'd hurt..."

"Gee, maybe because you almost blew my sister's head off yesterday?" Nabiki snarled. "The fact that you didn't wasn't through lack of trying."

Mariko shrugged. "I was shooting at Saotome. Akane got in the way."

"Next time, you will hold your damn fire," Nabiki replied, her tone icy. "That's my deal. If killing Ranma means that me or mine get hurt in the process, you find another way."

Silence fell for a few seconds, as the siblings thought this over. Finally, Mariko nodded. "I'll take that deal, on two conditions. First, if Akane attacks me, I _will_ defend myself, non-lethally if that's an option. Second, if it's a choice between a Tendo or me and Koji dying, I'll kill you in a heartbeat. Is that acceptable?"

Nabiki pondered the deal. The terms Mariko was asking for were reasonable; asking either of them to let Akane beat them up was too much, and she suspected that both of the two would break the deal to save the other's life regardless of the bargain she struck. "That sounds reasonable."

Reluctantly, Koji nodded. "I didn't really want to hurt anyone else anyway. Ranma's caused enough pain; his death shouldn't bring any more of it."

Nabiki sighed. "It's going to anyway, whatever else it does. Akane's going to be heartbroken, and I'm going to be left with one hell of a guilt trip." A worrisome thought passed through her mind. "Whatever you do, don't let anyone know I'm helping you. Ranma would probably arrange for me to have an accident on the spot, and Akane would never forgive me."

"Look, Nabiki," Mariko said, hesitantly, "why on earth is Akane so attached to him? I met her, talked to her, and she seems like a real nice person. Ranma, on the other hand, is a psycho. What the hell does she see in him?"

Rubbing her eyes, Nabiki took another sip of her coffee. "Akane... has always been a sucker for hurt things. Baby birds, squirrels with broken legs, sick cats. And then Ranma comes, all handsome and mysterious and obviously broken, and the mother-protector part of her kicked in." Swirling the bitter liquid in her mouth, Nabiki suddenly realized something else.

"And there is sort of a... rightness, I guess, about the two of them." Noticing the Hibikis' incredulous stares, she nodded. "It sounds crazy, I know, but there's this weird chemistry. Almost like they were made for one another. Only Akane's too busy playing mother hen, and Ranma... I don't think Ranma cares. I don't think Ranma cares much of about anything."

"But he's a killer!" blurted Koji. "He _murdered_ my brother! How can she..."

"She's in love. Worse, she doesn't know she's in love. She'll rationalize it somehow, with his help." Nabiki paused, something striking her in a burst of inspiration. "I bet, deep down, she knows he's what he is. I think she wants to _reform_ him."

Mariko stared at her for a few seconds, and then began to coldly laugh. "If she thinks that, she's in for an unpleasant surprise. The only thing that'll improve him is death. Preferably a lingering, painful, exquisite one."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Full of love and human feeling, aren't we?"

Snorting, Mariko took another pull of coffee. "You want him dead just as much as we do, Tendo."

"I want him out of the way. You sound like you want him to suffer for no other reason than the suffering."

Mariko leaned forward, her eyes fever-bright. "He took away one of the most important people in my life. He killed my brother, Nabiki. He didn't even do it under the coverage of the stupid code of honor my brother thinks so highly of. Saotome Ranma murdered a helpless person, and I'm going to enjoy every second of his dying moments."

"It's none of my business," Nabiki slowly replied, "but I'd consider getting some help after you're through. Because when you talk about Ranma, you almost remind me of him."

"That's enough!" Koji barked, glaring at Nabiki. "Tendo-san, I'll thank you not to make that comparison again!"

"Sure thing, Koji." Standing, Nabiki set the now-empty cup on a nearby log. "And now, I've got to be on my way. Ciao." As she moved through the barrier of trees surrounding the camp, a thought suddenly struck her. "By the way... why on an island?"

Both of the Hibikis turned bright red.

"Well," Koji sheepishly explained, "it makes it harder to wander off and get lost."

"Right." Shaking her head in disbelief, Nabiki began to look for her pole.

* * *

Ranma walked across the lawn. The boy watched him. Interesting. He was laughing. He hadn't known Saotome could laugh, any more than a tiger or a crocodile could.

"Your turn, Akane!"

The black-haired girl picked up the golf club and swung, sending the ball skittering to the very mouth of the overturned drinking glass that was apparently serving as the third hole. "Ha! A birdie for sure, Ranma. This game's mine."

"Oh yeah? I'll have you know, Miss Tendo, that I've never lost a game of backyard golf in my life."

"Oh really? And have you ever played before?"

"Nope."

More laughter, from both of them. The boy shook his head in disbelief. THIS was the demon who had ripped through his life and mangled it? He had expected to find him at home disemboweling babies and torturing virgins, not being beaten in lawn golf by a Japanese schoolgirl.

"Hi Akane, Ranma. How's it going?"

"Hi Oneechan! Just playing golf. I'm winning."

"Hello, Nabiki-san."

The boy stiffened.

"Ranma. I see my sister is getting the best of you."

"Yes, well, these things take time to master. Back from a walk?"

They were talking on several levels, these two, and they didn't like each other much. This was the person he was looking for, the killer, the animal.

"Yup. I've decided to start jogging on the weekends, in the early morning. You know what they say about the early bird..."

"You should be careful, Nabiki-san. All sorts of strange people out there, especially early in the morning. Make sure you aren't alone, ever."

"Thanks for the advice, Ranma. But I can take good care of myself."

The new arrival walked into the house, and the boy watched as Saotome resumed his bantering with the one he had called Akane.

Very interesting.

He had a plan.

* * *

Although the Hibikis are undeniably dangerous and unstable, they also seem to possess a basic humanity and decency lacking in Ranma. You are advised to take the utm

A knocking on the door to her bedroom caused Nabiki to glance up from her laptop. Quickly saving and closing the letter, she slid across the bed to within easy reach of a certain switch. "Come in."

The door opened, and Ranma strolled in, shutting it behind him. A unpleasant sensation began to form in the pit of her stomach.

"Ranma. What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"

He smiled widely, and the unpleasant sensation increased.

"Nabiki, Nabiki... while I do enjoy our little verbal fencing matches, I think it's time to talk plainly, don't you?"

Her heart leapt. Perhaps she could end it all right here, without anyone killing anyone else. "Sure, Ranma. I think you're a sick little boy who gets his thrills by playing games with people. I think you enjoy hurting people. And I _know_ I want you out of my house as soon as possible. Plain enough for you?"

As she finished her speech, she flicked the switch, turning on the audio mike hidden behind her dresser. The one which recorded into a tape, and also played on the speaker she had placed in the living room.

Ranma laughed softly. "You think I enjoy hurting people? Me? Poor, lonely, guilt-wracked Saotome Ranma?" Before Nabiki could blink, he had crossed the room and grabbed her by the throat, pushing her back against the wall. "How very perceptive of you."

Nabiki swallowed, fighting back the waves of pure terror that threatened to overwhelm her. "Get your hands off me. Now."

"Sure thing."

She was airborne for a second, and then landed hard against the far wall. Something broke underneath her, cutting painfully into her right leg.

"I don't like you very much, Nabiki. I don't like your nasty, suspicious, catty little mind. I don't like the way you try to get Akane to turn against me. And I especially don't like how good you are at seeing things."

"You don't care about Akane at all, do you?" Say you don't, say you don't and that will clinch everything.

"Akane's mine. It's none of your business what I feel about her. Or what I decide to do with her. She Is Mine."

Perfect. Nabiki struggled to her feet, smiling slightly. "Surprise, Ranma. You're on the air as we speak. The game's over."

Ranma clapped his hands to the sides of his mouth in mock surprise. "Oh no! My evil plans are undone! Curses, foiled again!"

Nabiki eyed him warily, an uneasy feeling adding itself to the legion of worries and outright fear she was barely managing to contain. He looked about, peering at the walls and ceiling in an exaggerated manner.

"Well, drat. Hey, Akane! I'm going to rape and kill your sister, okay?" He cocked his head to one side, and listened for a few seconds. "Hmm. No objections."

Nabiki shrank back as he advanced. "You're... you're only digging yourself in deeper, Ranma... someone's probably already called the police, if you... if you run now, you could probably..."

He tossed something at her, and she caught it reflexively. It was a small circuitboard.

"Nabiki-chan, did you really think I wouldn't check to see what toys you had in your room before coming in to have our little chat?"

"I'll scream..."

Like a striking snake his hand was again at her throat, this time tight enough to cut off all noise. She could see the light in his eyes, feel the warmth of his breath, and she tried to scream, as she had told him she would.

"I can feel the air coming from your lungs, Nabiki... but I don't hear anything. You might as well stop; screaming will only hurt your throat."

His other hand moved to the front of her shirt, fiddled almost playfully with the top button.

"I wanted to kill you that first day, you know. The second you poked me in my girl-body's chest," the hand moved inside her shirt to cup her left breast, fingers squeezing painfully, "I decided I'd... remove you." His grip tightened, and tears appeared in her eyes despite her resolve. She wanted to vomit.

"And so here we are, just you... and me... didn't I tell you not to ever be alone?"

Her mind began to compartment itself off, distancing itself from what was going to happen.

The pressure on her breast eased, the hand withdrew, and a new fumbling began around her jeans, then a loosening as the front button was undone...

"I thought, that night, that I'd have you a couple times, break your neck, and leave you under a bridge or in a dumpster." The buttons on her fly began to pop open, one by one by one. "It took me a while to decide which, but I finally settled on the dumpster as being more appropriate. There's a great one down behind the slaughterhouse; the smell of all the other decaying pigs should keep everyone away but a few hungry rats."

There was a touch moving down along the outer surface of her underwear, she noticed absently.

"That was my idea, anyway." Fingers slid underneath the silk, brushed lightly through the hair that lay underneath. The urge to vomit came again, almost pierced the wall of distance she had built.

"But I decided against it."

And with that, he released her throat and shoved her, sending her tumbling against the bed. Gasping for air, she crawled away from where he stood, an amused look on his face.

"I know you've been cooking up something, Nabiki. Whatever it is, shut it down. Or you'll trip and fall in front of traffic, or take a tumble off a bridge, or go swimming and drown. And if I'm really upset, or just feeling playful, I might have a bit of fun with you first. Okay?"

She wanted to tell him what he could do with his fun. She wanted to rip his eyes from their sockets. "Okay," she rasped, massaging her throat with one hand. She would wait.

"Good. I'm glad we had this little talk, Nabiki-san. I feel we've really cleared the air. You go back to your work, now." Turning, he opened the door and strolled out.

Slowly, carefully, Nabiki stood up and rebuttoned her jeans. She didn't, her mind noted, feel the urge to bathe. And he hadn't actually touched her _there_, which was something. She hadn't been raped, which had been a certainty just a few moments ago. And she was alive.

She just needed a few more days to prepare a trap, one from which he wouldn't be able to escape alive. Any hesitation she had felt towards killing him was gone.

And now she needed to finish the report to her colleagues, not mentioning this of course, not this not thisnothisnotthis...

She was crying, which was intolerable. She _never_ cried. A confrontation like that was nothing to cry about, she was okay, she was a businesswoman and not a scared girl...

In just a few minutes, she would stop crying and finish the report. And then she would be just fine.

* * *

Akane whistled to herself as she picked up the cups from the golf game. She was glad Ranma had enjoyed it; she hadn't seen him so relaxed since he came here. Getting that story off his chest had been the best thing he could have done.

Although he had seemed a bit tense when Nabiki had come home. She frowned. Nabiki was up to something, and Ranma seemed almost afraid of her at times.

"Nabiki just wants my money, and...wants me to..." He blushed a bit, and the despairing look got deeper...

Akane frowned again. If Nabiki was blackmailing him, or...

The bonbori crashed into the back of her head, then, and she knew nothing more.

- End of Chapter 5 -


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